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SAN  DIEGO 


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DEMOCRACY  AND  SOCIAL 
GROWTH  IN  AMERICA 

FOUR   LECTURES 


BY 

BERNARD   MOSES,    Ph.D. 

PROFESSOR   IN   THE    UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 


G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS 
NEW  YORK  &  LONDON 
Zbc  fviilcl^crbccftcr  press 


Copyright,  1898 

BY 

G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS 
Entered  at  Stationers'  Hall,  London 


"Cbe  Uniclierboctec  prese,  ■new  ISorb 


CONTENTS. 


LECTURE  I. 

A  Fundamental  Tendency. 


PAGE 
.  .  I 


LECTURE  II. 

Conflict  and  Socialism 


36 


lecture  iii. 
Education  and  Democracy  . 


.     78 


LECTURE  IV. 

Preservation  of  the  Democratic  Spirit  103 


Index 


125 


DEMOCRACY  AND  SOCIAL 
GROWTH  IN  AMERICA. 


LECTURE  I. 

A   FUNDAMENTAL  TENDENCY. 

THE  occupation  of  the  American  con- 
tinent by  Europeans  has  part  of  its 
significance  in  the  fact  that  it  provided 
conditions  for  an  unprecedented  extension 
of  democracy.  In  the  presence  of  the  wil- 
derness and  uncultivated  tribes,  the  con- 
ventionalities of  an  old  and  complex  society 
were  wanting,  and  a  new  social  growth  be- 
gan, with  few  of  the  hampering  influences 
of  artificial  restrictions  and  distinctions. 
Never  before,  within  historic  times,  had 
there  been  offered  to  man  such  an  ample 
field  of  escape  from  the  conventional  forms 


2  DEMOCRACY  IN  AMERICA. 

of  established  society,  by  which  individuals 
are  kept  bound  in  their  places  of  inferiority 
and  superiority.  In  the  unsettled  regions 
of  America  there  was  the  widest  freedom 
from  the  restraints  of  civilization.  There 
was  ample  room  for  millions  to  take  essen- 
tially similar  places.  Under  these  circum- 
stances, men  necessarily  and  inevitably 
drifted  towards  the  enjoyment  of  common 
rights  and  privileges,  and  the  law  in  the 
course  of  time  recognized  and  confirmed 
the  fact. 

Through  the  discovery  of  America  and 
its  subsequent  occupation  by  Europeans, 
large  scope  was  given  to  a  modified  form  of 
political  practice  ;  and  the  new  phenomena 
of  political  life  have  given  a  new  basis  for 
scientific  inductions.     The  idea  of  equality 
under  the  law,  which  we  recognize  as  one  of 
the  results  of  the  new  social  conditions,  has 
entered  as  a  conspicuous  feature  into  recent 
political   discussion.     In  fact,  all  the  im 
portant  inductions  drawn  from   the  phe 
nomena  of  colonial  life  on  this  continent 
constituting,  as  they  do,  a  noteworthy  addi 
tion  to  our  general  knowledge  of  politics. 


A   FUNDAMENTAL    TENDENCY.  3 

must  be  set  down  among  the  consequences 
of  westward  migration.  The  discovery 
and  settlement  of  America  have,  moreover, 
enabled  us  to  study  society  in  the  actual 
process  of  formation.  We  have  seen  men 
build  communities,  and  by  slow  degrees 
organize  a  body  politic.  First,  in  this  pro- 
cess, came  the  creation  of  an  agency  or 
institution  to  do  certain  work  which  the 
society  wished  done ;  then  the  union  of 
these  several  agencies  or  institutions  into 
a  system,  and  this  system  we  have  seen  fit 
to  call  a  state. 

This  point  of  view  has  been  of  vast  im- 
portance in  revealing  the  state  as  an  organ- 
ized part  of  the  nation ;  or  as  an  instrument 
of  human  creation  designed  to  accomplish 
the  common  work  of  society.  Seeing  the 
state  grow  up,  little  by  little,  as  one  insti- 
tution after  another  was  organized  to  per- 
form some  part  of  the  increasing  social 
work,  there  has  been  derived  the  well- 
founded  conclusion  that  the  origin  of  the 
state  and  the  source  of  political  authority 
are  not  to  be  looked  for  in  the  inscrutable 
mind  of  Providence,  but  in  the  instincts 


4  DEMOCRACY  IN  AMERICA. 

and  intelligence  of  the  nation  itself.  We 
have  seen  the  state  develop  in  this  new 
world  without  an  external  initiative.  We 
have  consequently  been  led  to  set  aside  the 
vague  mediaeval  idea  of  a  Divine  origin 
of  political  authority,  and  have  emphasized 
the  truth  which  has  been  made  clear  by 
American  experience,  that  the  state  is  a 
body  of  institutions,  not  only  of  human 
origin,  but  also  of  worldly  purposes. 

The  subjection  of  America  to  civilized 
peoples  has  contributed  to  some  phases  of 
general  popular  advancement.  This  is 
suggested  by  the  fact  that  the  course  of 
progress  is  along  the  geographical  course 
of  migration ;  and  the  reason  of  this  is  not 
far  to  seek.  The  men  who  move  on  over 
the  frontier,  who  give  their  lives  to  build- 
ing a  new  society  in  a  new  field,  are  not 
the  drones,  the  ineifectives,  or  those  who 
feel  that  their  work  is  finished.  Such  as 
these  are  left  behind.  The  new  community, 
therefore,  begins  its  career  with  the  mini- 
mum of  conservatism  and  the  maximum  of 
force ;  and,  except  as  it  becomes  entangled 
in  the  qualities  of  the  barbarians,  it  is  in  a 


A   FUNDAMENTAL    TENDENCY.  5 

better  condition  to  run  the  course  of  civili- 
zation than  was  its  antecedent  society. 

Our  English  ancestors  generally  kept 
themselves  in  this  condition.  In  coloni- 
zing America  they  were  uncompromising. 
They  moved  steadily  and  irresistibly  for- 
ward, and  their  advance  was  marked  by 
the  disappearance  of  the  uncultivated  abo- 
rigines. The  Spaniards,  on  the  other  hand, 
wherever  they  met  the  Indians  of  America, 
were  willing  to  descend  from  their  Eu- 
ropean standard  of  civilization  and  affili- 
ate with  them  on  a  lower  plane.  They 
compromised  with  them  both  physically 
and  spiritually.  The  English  policy  has 
tended  to  the  ultimate  extermination  of 
the  barbarians ;  but  the  Indians  who  have 
survived  contact  with  the  Spaniards  have 
become  constituent  parts  of  the  new  na- 
tions. The  important  question  involved  in 
these  facts  is  not  the  question  of  the  preser-i 
vation  or  disappearance  of  a  people,  but 
the  progress  of  civilization.  It  is,  therefore, 
a  matter  of  grave  concern  whether  a  nation 
in  colonizing  preserves  its  stock  unmixed 
with  lower  elements,  or,  becoming  united 


6  DEMOCRACY  IN  AMERICA. 

with  barbarians,  leaves  a  posterity  less 
effective  tlian  would  have  been  descendants 
of  unadulterated  blood.  In  the  one  case, 
the  colony  is  able  to  take  up  the  work  of 
civilization  at  the  point  to  which  it  had 
been  advanced  by  the  parent  nation.  In 
the  other  case,  the  colony  finds  itself  en- 
dowed with  more  or  less  of  the  taint  and 
bias  of  barbarism,  and  is  thus  outranked 
by  colonies  of  the  higher  race,  which  have 
remained  true  to  themselves.  The  com- 
munity which  is  descended  from  a  union  of 
Europeans  and  Indians  has  naturally  more 
or  less  of  an  inclination  towards  the 
thoughts  and  life  of  its  Indian  ancestors, 
and  is  thus  compelled  to  go  over  a  certain 
part  of  the  path  of  progress  which  the 
European  has  already  trod,  and  which  has 
led  him  to  his  present  position  of  enlighten- 
ment. It  is  obliged,  by  a  slow  and  labori- 
ous process  of  cultivation,  to  eliminate  or 
overcome  the  influence  of  the  element  that 
makes  for  degeneracy ;  and,  until  this  is 
accomplished,  its  facility  of  movement 
along  the  way  of  civilization  is  impeded, 
and   it   is   consequently   outrun  by   com- 


A    FUNDAMENTAL    TENDENCY.  7 

munities  that  have  been  careful  to  with- 
hold themselves  from  barbarian  contamina- 
tion. 

The  Ensflish  were  induced  to  hold  aloof 
from  the  barbarian  by  that  quality  in  them 
which  we  may  call  their  race-respect ;  and 
through  this  it  has  been  possible  for  them 
to  spread  their  colonies  to  the  four  quarters 
of  the  world,  with  no  departure  anywhere 
from  the  social  standard  of  the  parent  stock. 
And  the  preservation  of  this  standard  was 
rendered  easy  by  keeping  the  way  to  the 
colonies  constantly  open  to  the  emigration  of 
both  men  and  women  from  the  mother  coun- 
try. The  Spaniards,  on  the  other  hand,  by ;  , 
the  provisions  of  law,  prohibited  unmarried  ^^ 
women  from  emigrating  to  their  colonies, 
and  thus  made  inevitable  the  rise  of  a  1 
mixed  race,  whose  strain  of  barbarism  ren- 
dered it  incompetent  to  participate  in  the 
leadership  of  the  world's  civilization.  For 
the  advantage  possessed  by  the  people  of 
the  United  States,  in  being  able  to  start  on 
a  course  of  national  progress  without  a 
handicap,  they  are  indebted  largely  to  the 
wise  discretion  of  their  colonial  ancestors, 


8  DEMOCRACY  IN  AMERICA. 

who  were  enabled  to  preserve  the  purity 
of  the  blood  of  their  descendants. 

Whether  the  determinations  of  these 
ancestors  were  consciously  taken  or  were 
the  result  of  a  strong  national  instinct,  in 
either  case  the  important  aspect  of  their 
action  was  its  relation  to  the  future;  in 
fact,  the  questions  which  demand  the  most 
profound  and  careful  consideration  of  any 
generation  are  not  questions  concerning 
the  past,  but  questions  whose  significance 
is  only  seen  by  reference  to  the  future. 
And  in  contemplating  our  national  future 
we  are  not  disposed  to  set  for  ourselves 
limits.  As  a  nation  we  have  attained  rank 
and  power  and  some  measure  of  self-confi- 
dence ;  the  blood  of  youthful  health  flows 
in  our  veins,  and  under  the  spell  of  our  own 
imposing  nationality  we  sometimes  think 
that  we  have  solved  the  secret  of  national 
immortality.  And  this  thought  is  more 
than  a  passing  fancy  ;  it  is  woven  into  the 
texture  of  our  being.  It  abides  in  our 
national  life  and  character  as  an  ever-pres- 
ent instinct.  For,  as  it  is  difficult  for  the 
individual  man  to  live  constantly  in  the 


A   FUNDAMENTAL    TENDENCY.  9 

presence  of  the  idea  of  his  dissolution  and 
the  extinction  of  his  personality,  so  is  it 
difficult  for  a  nation  to  hold  in  perpetual 
contemplation  the  thought  that  its  national 
life  and  formal  organization  are  doomed  to 
perish.  The  impression  of  the  multitude 
is  that  the  law  of  national  life,  to  which 
there  has  been  no  exception,  is  not  to  apply- 
to  this  nation,  but  is  to  be  set  aside  in 
our  behalf.  But  intelligence,  enlightened 
by  the  records  of  the  past,  traverses  in- 
stinctive impressions,  and  leads  to  the  con- 
clusion that  while  this  nation  continues  to 
be  progressive,  it  will  be  subject  to  the 
common  fate  of  organized  humanity,  as 
revealed  in  the  institutional  transforma- 
tions of  earlier  nations. 

The  rise  of  the  English  colonies  in  Amer- 
ica to  the  position  of  an  independent  nation 
and  the  subsequent  development  and  con- 
duct of  this  nation  constitute  an  important 
part  of  the  history  of  democracy.  The 
establishment  of  this  republic  was  an  em- 
phatic announcement  of  certain  principles 
which  appear  destined  to  abide,  although 
in  the  process  of  social  growth  the  forms 


10 


DEMOCRACY  IN  AMERICA. 


of  political  organization  may  change.  In 
view  of  the  necessary  relation  between  a 
certain  form  of  society  and  its  proper  form 
of  government,  a  modification  of  the  politi- 
cal organization  may  be  expected  as  an  in- 
evitable accompaniment  of  the  changes 
which  society  undergoes  in  passing  from 
the  simple  to  the  complex  form.  Under 
this  principle,  which,  since  Montesquieu, 
has  been  one  of  the  axioms  of  political  sci- 
ence, we  expect  a  democratic  government 
wherever  we  find  a  democratic  form  of  so- 
ciety, or  wherever  there  is  a  near  approach 
to  equality  of  material  conditions.  Under 
this  principle,  on  the  other  hand,  we  ex- 
pect that,  in  a  society  where  great  inequal- 
ity of  material  conditions  prevails,  the 
government  maintained  will  be  neither 
democratic  in  form  nor  democratic  in  spirit. 
In  Switzerland,  some  cantons,  on  account 
of  their  natural  circumstances,  have  been 
unfavorable  to  the  development  of  great 
wealth,  and  the  inhabitants  have,  therefore, 
remained  in  essentially  similar  conditions ; 
they  have  touched  neither  the  extreme  of 
poverty  nor  the  extreme  of  riches.     Such 


A    FUNDAMENTAL    TENDENCY.  II 

cantons  have  continued  to  be  democratic 
cantons.  They  have  produced  no  large 
cities,  but  have  continued  to  be  peopled  by 
small  farmers  or  peasant  proprietors.  They 
have  retained  the  democratic  spirit  and  the 
democratic  form  of  political  organization. 
In  other  cantons  of  more  abundant  natural 
resources  large  cities  have  arisen,  and  soci- 
ety has  passed  to  an  advanced  stage  of  dif- 
ferentiation. Marked  inequalities  of  ma- 
terial conditions  have  appeared,  and  these 
cantons  have  not  grown  to  be  democracies, 
but  have  become  aristocracies,  both  as  to 
the  forms  of  the  society  and  the  forms  of 
government. 

The  more  or  less  extensive  manifestation 
of  the  democratic  spirit  in  the  institutions 
of  eveiy  political  society  existing  on  this 
side  of  the  Atlantic  is  the  distinguishing 
characteristic  of  the  history  of  this  conti- 
nent. In  searching  for  the  causes  of  this 
appearance  we  cannot  satisfactorily  attrib- 
ute it  to  national  peculiarities  that  have 
been  passed  on  to  the  colonies,  for  the  mem- 
bers of  the  colonies  were  derived  from 
many  nations ;  and  whether  coming  from 


12  DEMOCRACY  IN  AMERICA. 

j  liberal  England  or  absolutist  Spain,  they 
j  have  shown  a  decided  preference  for  the 
principles  and  practices  of  democracy.  We 
cannot  attribute  it  to  a  conscious  determi- 
nation, for  over  the  vast  area  of  the  conti- 
O  nent,  with  nations  of  unlike  inheritance,  we 
\  cannot  reasonably  presume  uniformity  of 
conscious  purpose.  We  cannot,  moreover, 
attribute  it  to  any  intelligent  force,  for  the 
general  features  of  national  and  continental 
life  are  not  determined  consciously,  but  by 
the  action  of  forces  which  lie  outside  of  the 
human  will.  The  universal  prevalence  of 
democracy  in  America  must,  therefore,  be 
referred  in  large  measure  to  that  equality 
of  material  conditions  into  which  men  are 
forced  by  the  circumstances  of  frontier  life. 
In  an  old  society  persons  are  maintained  in 
relations  of  inequality  as  a  consequence  of 
social  differentiation,  supported  by  the  di- 
rect provisions  of  law  and  the  decrees  of 
custom.  But  under  the  conditions  which 
prevail  where  a  wilderness  is  taken  for  civ- 
ilization, and  where  the  cultivation  of  the 
soil  is  the  almost  universal  occupation,  law 
is  in  its  incipient  stages,  custom  is  silent, 


A   FUNDAMENTAL    TENDENCY.  1 3 

and  the  restraining  influence  of  social  con- 
ventionalities is  wanting.  Under  these 
conditions  pretensions  to  superiority  are 
seldom  made,  and  if  made  would  find  little 
recognition. 

The  universal  presence  of  the  democratic 
spirit  in  American  society  finds  an  explana- 
tion in  the  suggestions  already  made  con- 
cerning the  conditions  under  which  democ- 
racy appears,  and  in  the  further  fact  that 
these  conditions  are  the  inevitable  accom- 
paniment of  certain  stages  of  colonial  life. 
If  these  conditions  and  their  influence  are 
more  marked  in  the  English  than  in  the 
Spanish  colonies,  the  diiference  is  due  to 
the  greater  freedom  from  external  govern- 
mental control  which  the  English  colonies 
enjoyed.  These  colonies  \vere  practically 
free,  and  took  character  from  their  environ- 
ment. The  English  colonists  generally  ac- 
quired whatever  amounts  of  land  they  could 
cultivate,  and  each  in  the  cultivation  of  his 
land  found  himself  essentially  in  the  same 
position  with  respect  to  wealth,  and  living 
essentially  the  same  kind  of  life,  as  his  neigh- 
bor.    When  the  necessity  of  organizing  and 


14  DEMOCRACY  IN  AMERICA. 

carrying  on  a  local  government  presented 
itself,  the  obligation  fell  equally  upon  all 
members  of  the  colony,  and  the  govern- 
ment which  arose  was  a  democracy  by  vir- 
tue of  the  material  equality  in  which  the 
colonists  lived.  The  forces  which  made  the 
English  colonies  in  America  democratic 
were  thus  the  same  forces  that  developed 
and  have  maintained  democracy  in  the 
forest  cantons  of  Switzerland. 

If  the  Spanish  colonists  have  had  a  some- 
what different  history  in  this  regard,  it  is 
because  of  the  close  relation  that  was  main- 
tained between  them  and  the  authorities 
of  the  mother  country.  From  the  founda- 
tion of  the  first  Spanish  settlements  on  this 
continent  till  the  beginning  of  their  strug- 
gle for  independence,  the  king  of  Spain 
held  a  strong  hand  over  his  American 
subjects.  Every  important  feature  of  their 
life  was  prescribed  by  authority  emanating 
from  him.  The  movements  of  goods  and 
the  movements  of  persons  were  subject  to 
a  most  arbitrary  and  far-reaching  restric- 
tion. The  political  organization,  from  the 
lowest  municipal  corporation  to  the  vice- 


A   FUNDAMENTAL    TENDENCY.  1 5 

royalty,  was  planned  and  constructed  in 
Europe  in  accordance  with  European  ideas, 
and  the  higher  offices,  almost  without  ex- 
ception, were  filled  with  persons  of  Euro- 
pean birth  and  European  education.  To 
furnish  an  additional  force  to  counteract 
the  natural  tendencies  to  democracy  in 
Spanish  America,  the  privileges  and  pres- 
tige of  nobility  were  extended  to  conspicu- 
ous colonists.  In  view  of  these  artificial 
restrictions  and  imported  conventionalities, 
the  native  forces  of  colonial  life  worked 
slowly  and  against  great  odds.  But  when 
the  war  for  the  emancipation  of  Spanish 
America  was  ended,  it  was  clearly  seen 
that  the  forces  which  make  for  democracy 
had  not  been  subdued,  but  that  even  dur- 
ing the  domination  of  the  Spanish  king 
they  had  so  far  moulded  the  life  of  the 
Spanish  colonists  that  after  emancipation 
had  been  achieved  no  independent  govern 
ment  was  possible  which  did  not  rest  on 
and  give  ample  recognition  to,  the  demo 
cratic  principle.  Even  the  strong  anti 
democratic  preferences  of  the  great  leaders 
who   had   enjoyed   a  most   extraordinary 


1 6  DEMOCRACY  IN  AMERICA. 

popularity  during  the-  war,  were  inade- 
quate to  check  or  turn  aside  the  current 
of  democratic  sentiment. 

The  English  colonies  furnished  the  best 
example  of  democracy  in  America,  largely 
because  they  were  to  a  greater  extent  than 
any  other  colonies  moulded  by  local  influ- 
ences. The  English  government  made 
little  or  no  effort  to  restrain  them  by 
imposing  upon  them  the  legal  and  conven- 
tional forms  and  relations  that  had  come 
into  existence  in  an  old  and  complex 
society.  And  they  f oun d  themselves,  more- 
over, under  circumstances  that  favored  the 
ownership  and  cultivation  of  land  on  a 
small  scale,  thus  permitting  each  settler  to 
become  a  proprietor  and  the  peer  of  his 
neighbor ;  while  in  the  Spanish  settlements 
the  system  of  encomiendas  provided  for  in- 
equality from  the  beginning,  and  thus  set 
up  a  barrier  that  had  to  be  broken  down 
to  make  way  for  democratic  progress. 

The  equality  of  material  conditions  pre- 
sented by  the  colonial  life  of  America  has 
not  only  given  a  democratic  basis  to  the 
republics   of    this  continent,   but  it    has 


A   FUNDAMENTAL    TENDENCY.  ly 

indirectly  moved  parts  of  other  nations  to 
undertake  to  establish  democratic  institu- 
tions ;  and  this  attempt  has  sometimes  been 
made  where  the  conditions  did  not  favor 
the  maintenance  of  such  institutions. 
France  may  maintain  a  republic,  or  a  gov- 
ernment in  which  the  highest  offices  are 
filled  by  election,  but  in  the  presence  of 
existing  inequalities  of  material  conditions 
it  is  not  to  be  expected  that  the  govern- 
ment will  exhibit  many  characteristics  of 
democracy.  If  a  democratic  government 
were  set  up  in  a  nation  as  far  advanced 
in  social  development  as  France,  it  would 
indicate  that  the  nation  as  a  whole  had 
fallen  under  the  dominion  of  a  class,  that 
the  large  unprivileged  body  of  the  inhabi- 
tants whose  individual  possessions  are 
essentially  equal  had  assumed  control.  It 
would  not,  however,  mean  the  establish- 
ment of  a  permanent  national  government. 
The  movement  in  favor  of  democracy  in  ^\xr<^^^ 
the  last  two  hundred  and  fifty  years  is  tol 
be  regarded  as  a  movement  primarily 
American.  The  great  European  nations 
have  felt  its  influence,  but  their  social  con- 


1 8  DEMOCRACY  IN  AMERICA. 

ditions  have  prevented  them  from  realiz- 
ing its  ideal.  An  illustration  of  one  of 
the  phases  of  the  influence  which  the  con- 
ditions of  this  continent  have  exerted  upon 
European  nations  may  be  seen  when  we 
consider  the  movement  for  political  emanci- 
pation which  filled  the  last  quarter  of  the 
eighteenth  and  the  first  quarter  of  the  nine- 
teenth century.  It  was  a  movement  of 
three  episodes.  It  began  with  the  steps 
that  led  the  English  colonies  to  assert 
their  freedom  from  a  non-resident  govern- 
ment, it  was  continued  in  the  French 
Revolution,  and  ended  with  the  achieve- 
ment of  Spanish- American  independence. 
Its  French  phase  was  an  attempt  to  realize 
in  an  old  and  highly  differentiated  society 
the  democratic  ideas  that  were  born  of 
colonial  conditions.  So  completely  was 
France  dependent  upon  America  in  this 
matter  that  Professor  Ritchie  has  felt 
justified  in  affirming  that  "every  article 
of  the  French  revolutionary  creed  had  been 
already  formulated — and  often  in  less  care- 
fully guarded  phraseology — by  the  emanci- 
pated  'Anglo-Saxons'   on  the  American 


A   FUNDAMENTAL    TENDENCY.  1 9 

side  of  the  Atlantic."  To  realize  the  bor- 
rowed ideas  of  this  creed  and  make  them 
permanently  applicable  required  that  the 
society  of  France  should  be  turned  back 
from  its  natural  drift,  and  by  artificial 
means  made  to  assume  the  characteristics 
of  a  simpler  form.  And  herein  lay  the 
insurmountable  difficulty  of  establishing 
democracy  in  France. 

In  proceeding  to  take  account  of  the 
prospects  of  democracy,  we  find  a  reason- 
able starting-point  in  the  acceptance  of  the 
propositions  already  considered  :  (1)  That 
a  given  form  of  society  tends  to  secure 
for  itself  a  certain  proper  form  of  govern- 
ment ;  (2)  That  the  circumstances  which 
produce  an  essential  equality  of  material 
conditions  tend  also  to  produce,  among 
the  inhabitants,  equality  of  political  rights 
and  power,  and  thus  a  democratic  form  of 
government.  From  this  point  of  view 
light  is  thrown  on  the  problem  in  hand 
by  the  facts  of  normal  social  growth.  If 
we  find  in  a  certain  early  stage  of  civiliza- 
tion an  essential  equality  of  material  con- 
ditions, we  do  not  find   either  similarity 


20  DEMOCRACY  IN  AMERICA. 

of  tastes  or  equality  of  mental  endow- 
ments; and  because  of  the  inequality  of 
intellectual  power,  the  diversity  of  aims, 
and  the  desire  of  the  majority  of  men  to 
improve  their  circumstances,  society,  under 
favorable  opportunities,  moves  away  from 
its  condition  of  democratic  equality.  With 
no  restrictions  placed  on  the  movements  of 
I  the  individual  members  of  such  a  society, 
the  fittest  in  the  several  lines  of  activity 
acquire  positions  of  advantage,  and  the 
less  fit  fall  behind  or  are  crowded  to  the 
wall.  Thus  every  step  forward  from  the 
simplicity  and  equality  of  the  early  agri- 
cultural stage  towards  the  complexity  of 
highly  developed  society  is  marked  by  an 
increasing  inequality  of  material  condi- 
tions. In  some  cases  this  result  is  furthered 
by  the  action  of  the  government,  either 
directly  by  grants  of  property  or  privileges, 
or  indirectly  by  such  legislation  as  tends 
to  produce  among  the  persons  affected 
diversity  of  advantage.  But  this  discrimi- 
nating activity  of  government  is  not  neces- 
sary to  the  end ;  essentially  the  same  result 
will  be  achieved  by  the  forces  inherent  in 


A   FUNDAMENTAL    TENDENCY.  21 

an  individualistic  society.  In  a  word,  the 
natural  growth  of  society  under  the  forces 
resident  in  the  unlike  powers  of  the  indi- 
vidual members  is  towards  various  kinds  of 
inequality,  and  especially  towards  inequal- 
ity of  material  possessions.  If  in  some  re- 
gions this  end  has  not  been  reached,  if  a  given 
society  has  retained  its  primitive  simplicity 
and  equality,  explanation  of  the  perma- 
nence of  this  equality  will  be  found  in  the 
lack  of  social  progress  due  to  isolation,  or 
to  a  lack  of  those  natural  resources  which 
permit  social  differentiation.  Perhaps  in 
those  parts  of  the  United  States  where  the 
conditions  of  the  frontier  have  been  left 
behind,  society  has  had  as  nearly  a  normal 
growth  as  in  any  country.  There  have 
been  abundant  natural  resources,  a  rapidly 
increasing  population,  favoring  the  widest 
division  of  employments,  and  comparative- 
ly little  direct  governmental  interference 
in  behalf  of  inequality.  In  these  places 
the  result  of  social  growth  has  been  to. 
increase  the  inequality  of  material  con^' 
ditions,  and  this  is  clearly  the  normal 
result  of  social  growth  under  the  influence 


22  DEMOCRACY  IN  AMERICA. 

'  of  merely  inherent  forces.  Whenever  the 
government  or  any  external  force  interferes 
to  give  an  artificial  advantage  to  certain 
persons,  the  effect  will  be  only  to  acceler- 
ate this  movement.  But  in  the  presence 
of  this  tendency  there  arises  from  time  to 
time  a  strong  protest  which  takes  the  form 
of  a  proposal  to  return  to  earlier  equality ; 
yet  all  conscious  attempts  to  accomplish 
this  have  hitherto  been  without  important 
results.  We  are  led,  therefore,  to  regard 
the  movement  from  equality  of  material 
conditions  to  inequality  of  material  con- 
ditions as  a  characteristic  feature  of  prog- 
ress under  freedom,  particularly  as  it 
appears  in  industrial  society. 

Under  the  earlier  characteristic  social 
order  of  monarchy,  inequality  of  posses- 
sions was  sometimes  directly  furthered  by 
extensive  grants  of  property  from  the 
crown,  and  by  special  exemptions  from 
pecuniary  burdens  which  fell  upon  the 
bulk  of  the  citizens.  But  in  the  character- 
istic life  of  the  modern  industrial  nations 
this  means  of  promoting  inequality  of  ma- 
terial conditions  has  been  almost  entirely 


A    FUNDAMENTAL    TENDENCY.  23 

discarded ;  yet  unrestricted  competition 
in  the  presence  of  all  the  modern  artificial 
appliances  for  production  is  producing  a 
similar  result.  The  opportunity  here  offered 
to  a  person  of  extraordinary  energy  and 
foresight  to  combine  in  behalf  of  his 
private  interests  the  modern  means  of  pro- 
duction, gives  to  superior  ability  an  advan- 
tage not  enjoyed  under  any  other  form 
of  society.  Unequal  powers  in  the  pres-l 
ence  of  common  opportunities  for  gaining 
wealth  give  as  a  result  unequal  possessions. 
Thus,  whether  the  government  interferes 
in  behalf  of  individuals,  or  simply  stands 
for  order,  the  outcome  of  industrial  devel- 
opment, with  respect  to  possessions  or 
material  conditions,  will  be  essentially  the 
same  in  both  cases,  and  that  an  increasing 
inequality. 

Under  this  movement,  and  by  the  very 
nature  of  their  differentiating  affairs,  and 
the  varying  magnitudes  of  their  industrial 
and  commercial  interests,  men  are  drawn 
towards  different  forms  of  life  and  activity ; 
and  thus,  as  a  result  of  free  social  progress, 
society,  in  the  course  of  time,  inevitably 


24  DEMOCRACY  IN  AMERICA. 

becomes  marked  by  classes,  becomes  un- 
democratic, and  this  in  spite  of  the  non- 
recognition  of  these  classes  by  law. 

If,  as  here  indicated,  the  democratic 
form  of  society  disappears  under  normal 
social  development,  we  have  only  to  apply 
the  already  accepted  principle  concerning 
the  relation  of  the  form  of  society  to  the 
form  of  government,  in  order  to  make 
clear  the  proposition  that  the  passing  of 
democratic  society  means  the  passing  of 
the  democratic  element  in  government. 
The  process,  however,  is  neither  rapid  nor 
uniform  in  all  parts  of  a  given  country. 
Every  stage  in  the  progress  already  made 
in  the  United  States  is  represented  in  the 
present  by  some  part  of  our  society.  The 
two  extremes,  the  beginning  and  the  present 
culmination  of  the  movement,  are  repre- 
sented by  the  agricultural  frontier  and  by 
the  large  cities.  This  frontier  is  not  merely 
the  region  where  the  wave  of  westward 
migration  breaks  on  the  shore  of  barbar- 
ism, but  it  is  also  found  in  the  interior  of 
older  states  ;  the  isolated  rural  parishes  of 
Missouri  or  Indiana  have  to-day  the  essen- 


A   FUNDAMENTAL    TENDENCY.  2$ 

tial  qualities  of  frontier  life.  The  influ- 
ences that  made  for  democracy  in  the 
colonial  days  survive  here,  and  here  lie 
the  basis  and  hope  for  the  continuance 
of  democracy  in  America.  In  the  cities, 
however,  which  stand  for  an  advanced 
stage  of  social  development,  there  is  the 
widest  departure  from  the  condition  of 
material  equality.  The  gulf  which  sepa- 
rates social  classes  becomes  wider,  and  the 
undemocratic  spirit  of  the  great  city  be- 
comes every  year  intensified.  Every  year, 
moreover,  its  domination  of  the  rural  dis- 
tricts becomes  more  complete.  -  With 
the  relative  fall  of  rural  independence, 
and  the  growing  subjection  of  the  country 
population  to  the  ideals  and  purposes  of 
the  city,  we  behold  the  decline  of  the  con- 
ditions and  the  forces  that  have  given  to 
this  nation  its  democratic  character,  and 
thus  furnished  the  basis  of  its  institutions. 
In  this  view  the  present  flight  from  the 
country  to  the  city  appears  of  vast  impor- 
tance. For  the  individual,  it  means  the 
gratification  of  new  wants,  but  it  does  not 
mean   that  in   the   gratification   of  these 


26  DEMOCRACY  IN  AMERICA. 

wants  a  higher  life  is  necessarily  realized, 
or  a  clearer  prospect  opened  to  posterity. 
It  means  a  renunciation  of  the  dignified 
independence  of  one  who  tills  his  own 
soil ;  and  indicates  a  willingness  on  the 
part  of  an  increasing  number  of  persons 
to  be  dependent  on  undertakings  initiated 
by  others.  It  means,  for  the  strong  few, 
wealth,  power,  and  a  fuller  experience  ; 
it  means,  for  the  weak  many,  lives  burned 
out  by  an  electric  current  they  are  unable 
to  bear. 

With  respect  to  the  nation,  it  means  a 
more  than  proportionate  growth  of  that 
part  whose  circumstances  are  unfavorable 
to  the  development  or  maintenance  of  the 
democratic  spirit.  This  movement  is  sig- 
nificant, moreover,  on  account  of  the  fact 
that  this  popular  tide  has  hitherto  been 
seen  to  run  in  only  one  direction.  There 
is  nowhere  a  record  of  a  popular  migra- 
tion from  the  great  city  to  the  country,  in 
which  is  revealed  a  disposition,  on  the  part 
of  the  persons  migrating,  to  take  up  the 
genuine  life  of  the  country.  When  it  is 
remembered,  therefore,  that  not  many  gen- 


A   FUNDAMENTAL    TENDENCY.  27 

erations  may  be  maintained  in  high  effi- 
ciency under  continuous  life  in  the  great 
city,  it  will  be  seen  that  any  change  in  the 
population  which  builds  up  the  city  andi 
depletes  the  country  not  only  makes  the, 
continued  reign  of  democracy  impossible, 
but  even  threatens  the  existence  of  civili- 
zation itself.  And  so  far  as  may  be  seen 
from  our  present  point  of  view  the  princi- 
pal forces  that  have  produced  the  recent 
striking  growth  of  large  cities  are  perma- 
nent forces.  One  of  these  is  found  in  the 
growing  sensitiveness  of  the  whole  body  of 
the  people  under  the  influences  that  are  in- 
ducing a  higher  degree  of  popular  enlight- 
enment. Through  this,  the  loneliness  of 
existence  in  the  countiy  is  made  to  appear 
oppressive,  and  the  gregarious  and  excit- 
ing life  of  the  city  extremely  desirable. 
As  it  is  impossible  for  the  ordinary  man, 
who  has  been  bred  under  the  pleasurable 
irritations  of  the  city,  to  go  with  satisfac- 
tion to  the  silent  and  dull  life  of  the  coun- 
try, so  is  it  impossible  for  the  countryman 
to  remain  contented  after  his  imagination 
has  been  awakened  by  frequent  communi- 


28  DEMOCRACY  IN  AMERICA . 

cation  with  the  city.  This  attitude  of  the 
dwellers  in  the  country  towards  the  city  is 
not  likely  to  pass  away  in  a  society  grow- 
ing from  simplicity  to  complexity,  but  is 
likely  to  be  confirmed  and  emphasized  by 
the  further  development  of  rapid  transpor- 
tation. As  soon  as  the  dwellers  in  the 
country  have  been  made  to  feel  the  intel- 
lectual wants  of  the  age,  they  are  bound 
to  become  conscious  that  these  wants  can 
be  satisfied  only  at  the  great  centres  of 
population.  In  the  same  direction  operates 
the  force  of  material  interests.  The  exten- 
sion of  the  means  of  rapid  and  cheap  trans- 
portation has  tended  to  make  the  cities 
distributing  points  for  the  products  of  the 
countiy,  and  thus  the  cheapest  place  for 
the  retailed  purchase  of  such  products. 
By  this  the  cost  of  food,  the  great  ob- 
stacle to  living  in  large  cities,  has  been 
reduced,  making  way  for  the  attractions 
of  city  life  to  become  effective.  It  may 
thus  be  seen  that  the  influences  which  con- 
tribute to  the  enlightenment  and  elevation 
of  the  country  people,  and  lead  them  to 
seek  their  temporal  advantage,  at  the  same 


A   FUNDAMENTAL    TENDENCY.  29 

time  tend  to  induce  them  to  desert  their 
ancient  conditions,  and  to  cause  the  rural 
districts  to  lose  that  character  which  has 
made  them  the  promoters  of  democracy. 

Although  the  recent  extension  of  the 
power  exercised  by  the  people  in  some  of 
the  European  nations,  appears  to  be  a 
movement  towards  democracy,  it  is  never- 
theless not  to  be  regarded  as  a  counter  move- 
ment to  the  tendency  already  observed  ; 
it  is  only  the  result  of  the  abolition  of 
privileges  previously  granted  and  upheld 
by  the  government.  As  long  as  these 
privileges  are  maintained,  social  growth 
proceeds  along  artificial  lines,  and  the 
forces  of  free  competition  are  more  or 
less  checked  by  hereditary  advantages  or 
disadvantages.  The  maintenance  of  legal 
privileges  has,  therefore,  preserved  an  arti- 
ficial inequality,  which,  in  so  far  as  it  has 
been  supported  by  these  privileges,  tends 
to  disappear  when  they  are  removed.  As 
soon  as  the  arbitrary  interference  of  gov- 
ernment ceases,  the  nations  concerned 
become  subject  to  the  forces  of  free  indus- 
trial  life.     The    apparent    drift    towards 


30  DEMOCRACY  IN  AMERICA. 

equality  and  democracy,  on  the  removal 
of  governmental  privileges,  is,  therefore, 
only  a  temporaiy  movement.  That  no 
real  democracy  is  about  to  be  attained  in 
<^\  these  nations  becomes  evident  when  it  is 
remembered  that  they  have  entered  the 
industrial  stage  of  civilization,  and  are, 
therefore,  subject  to  the  forces  already  con- 
sidered, which  make  for  inequality,  and 
lead  away  from  democracy.  European 
society,  therefore,  presents  two  phases  of 
the  transition  movement.  It  is  slowly 
setting  aside  legal  privileges,  and  is  already 
far  on  the  course  of  economic  differentia- 
tion. The  English  colonists  in  America 
stood  in  contrast  with  existing  European 
society  in  that  they  were  rid  of  legal  dis- 
tinctions before  they  had  made  any  impor- 
tant industrial  progress,  when,  in  fact, 
their  equality  of  material  conditions  made 
democracy  possible.  It  is  not  possible  for 
i  these  conditions  to  appear  in  Europe,  and 
there  is  consequently  no  ground  for  the  ex- 
pectation that  the  great  nations  of  Europe 
will  become  democratic. 

Under  the  forces  of  normal   develop- 


A   FUNDAMENTAL    TENDENCY.  3 1 

ment,  society  grows  away  from  the  demo- 
cratic ideal,  and  consequently  away  from 
that  condition  in  which  the  democratic 
element  appears  as  a  conspicuous  and 
effective  power  in  the  government.  This 
conclusion  appears  true  in  its  application  /V 

although  the  nation  in  question  may  havB;  (i^^'^^T^- 
accepted  the  Christian  doctrine  of  ihej  i  JaaM- 
brotherhood  of  man,  or  although  the  indi-^   ,    JO 


vidual  members  of  the  nation  may  seem 
to  have  found  in  the  existing  government 
the  realization  of  their  political  ideals. 
Devotion  to  these  ideals  has  been  mani- 
fested in  many  ages  and  in  many  countries, 
yet  stability  of  forms  is  not  a  striking 
feature  of  general  political  history.  Change 
has  been  the  rule,  except  in  isolation,  or 
when  the  physical  means  of  social  develop- 
ment have  been  wanting.  In  this  respect, 
democratic  states  have  shared  the  common 
destiny.  Our  belief  that  for  our  country 
we  have  reached  a  final  form  of  political 
organization,  is  no  more  significant  than 
similar  beliefs  entertained  by  other  nations. 
Other  nations  have  hoped  for  the  per- 
petual preservation  of  their  social  forms 


32  DEMOCRACY  IN  AMERICA. 

with  hopes  as  well  grounded  as  those 
entertained  by  Americans;  yet  they  have 
seen  the  spirit  of  their  institutions  depart, 
and  the  historian  has  finally  noted  the 
fact  that  the  ancient  institutions  have 
been  superseded  by  others. 

In  view  of  the  dependence  of  democracy 
on  transitory  material  conditions,  and  the 
absence  here  of  conspicuous  obstacles  to 
change,  America  appears  to  be  drifting 
towards  a  state  of  society  less  democratic 
than  that  of  the  present.  In  cases  of  such 
a  transition  the  departure  of  the  democratic 
spirit  is  not  immediately  followed  by  the 
overthrow  of  democratic  institutions.  This 
is  abundantly  illustrated  in  political  his- 
tory. While  Mexico,  in  her  actual  admin- 
istration, is  as  completely  a  monarchy  as 
Spain,  she  retains  all  the  constitutional 
forms  that  were  created  to  give  expression 
to  the  spirit  of  democracy.  Rosas,  of  the 
Argentine  Republic,  found  it  unnecessary 
to  change  the  law,  or  to  modify  the  condi- 
tions of  universal  suffrage,  in  order  to 
maintain  absolute  rule.  Whenever,  in  the 
normal  growth  of  society,  it  becomes  neces- 


A   FUNDAMENTAL    TENDENCY.  33 

sary  for  the  government  to  adapt  itself  to 
the  modified  character  of  the  nation,  this 
is  not  necessarily  accomplished  by  a  sudden 
revolution,  or  by  any  process  attracting 
popular  attention.  Gradually,  and  by  an 
almost  imperceptible  movement,  one  de- 
partment or  element  in  a  government  as- 
sumes functions  not  originally  accorded  to 
it  by  law,  but  which  are  later  confirmed 
by  law ;  and  thus  while  the  governmental 
form  changes,  the  ideas  of  the  people  change 
also.  The  Roman  Republic  grew  into  the 
Empire,  in  spite  of  the  strong  devotion  to 
republicanism  which  the  people  had  pre- 
viously manifested ;  and  because  they  had 
gradually  accepted  new  ideals,  there  was 
no  more  popular  dissatisfaction  with  au- 
thority under  the  later  than  under  the 
earlier  form.  Such  a  transition  is  in  some 
sense  characteiistic  of  the  change  through 
which  a  growing  society  passes  in  develop- 
ing along  the  line  of  least  resistance. 

In  so  far,  therefore,  as  the  extreme  demo- 
cratic form  of  administration  involves  the 
maximum  of  governmental  friction,  will 
there  appear  a  tendency  to  depart  from  it 


34  DEMOCRACY  IN  AMERICA. 

as  the  business  of  government  becomes 
difficult,  by  reason  of  the  great  variety  and 
technical  character  of  the  practical  prob- 
lems, or  as  the  need  for  prompt  and  decisive 
action  becomes  imperative.  The  proper 
conduct  of  military  affairs,  whether  under 
republican  or  monarchical  rule,  demands 
such  action ;  consequently  the  army  of  a 
democratic  state  has  essentially  the  same 
organization  as  the  army  of  a  monarchical 
state ;  and  this  organization  is  determined 
by  the  conditions  and  purposes  of  military 
life,  by  the  social  disposition  to  proceed  by 
the  course  of  greatest  institutional  efficiency. 
Furthermore,  in  its  essential  nature  a  great 
city  in  America  does  not  differ  materially 
from  a  great  city  in  Europe.  There  may 
be  certain  artificial  or  accidental  differ- 
ences, but  as  a  social  product  one  is  like 
the  other.  They  stand  for  the  same  things 
in  the  history  of  progress ;  and  if  one  form 
of  administration  is  found  to  be  better  than 
all  others  in  one  country,  it  is  to  be  expected 
that  rational  progress  will  lead  to  the  ac- 
ceptance of  this  form  in  other  countries. 
If  the  method  of  municipal  administration 


A   FUNDAMENTAL    TENDENCY. 


35 


by  a  strong  centralization  of  power  is  found 
to  be  most  effective  in  England,  France, 
and  Germany,  there  is  no  reason  for  sup- 
posing that  a  different  method  for  a  similar 
body  will  be  most  effective  in  America. 


I 


LECTURE  11. 

CONFLICT    AND    SOCIALISM. 

PROMINENT  accompaniments  of  the 
fundamental  tendency  in  the  growth 
of  our  society  are  the  discontent  of  labor- 
ers, the  conflicts  with  their  employers,  and 
the  extravagant  expectations  which  many 
persons  entertain  concerning  socialism.  This 
discontent  is  not,  however,  an  indication 
that  the  lot  of  the  people  is  exceptionally 
hard.  In  the  United  States  there  is  no 
want  of  unrest  and  agitation,  but,  taking 
everything  into  consideration,  the  bulk  of 
this  nation  enjoys  a  degree  of  material 
well-being  not  attained  elsewhere.  No 
other  laud  furnishes  the  laborers  more 
nearly  an  adequate  reward  for  their  efforts 
than  this.  The  persistent  complaints  and 
even  the  reports  of  serious  strife,  which 
are  heard  here,  are  not  evidence  of  an  op- 
36 


CONFLICT  AND   SOCIALISM.  37 

pressed  or  degraded  condition  of  the  la- 
borers ;  they  point  rather  to  the  fact  that 
the  laborers  have  become  so  far  emancipated 
from  their  earlier  lot  as  to  be  able  to  direct 
their  attention  to  a  better  state,  and  strug- 
gle for  its  attainment.  The  workman  in 
Mexico  or  Egypt,  on  the  other  hand,  who 
dares  not  look  up  from  his  task  lest  he 
miss  his  scanty  daily  sustenance,  makes 
little  noise  or  contention  in  the  world.  He 
is  absorbed  in  his  immediate  work,  and  his 
actual  plans  do  not  reach  much  beyond 
his  meagre  supper  and  the  following  rest 
of  the  night.  In  general,  it  may  be  said 
that  the  sounds  of  discontent  come  not  from 
those  countries  where  the  laborers  are  still 
least  prosperous  and  feel  most  the  heavy 
hand  of  their  employers,  but  from  the 
countries  of  the  most  advanced  civilization, 
where  the  industrial  classes  have  attained 
the  most  favorable  standing.  Under  the 
hard  conditions  of  the  least  favored  nations, 
with  few  rewards  and  no  prospects,  the 
laborer  sees  nothing  before  him  to  stimu- 
late him  to  revolt  against  his  fate.  But 
when  in  the  course  of  time  his  circum- 


38  DEMOCRACY  IN  AMERICA. 

stances  have  become  more  favorable  and 
he  is  able  to  look  about  him  and  before 
him,  he  catches  glimpses  of  a  condition 
which  he  would  strive  to  attain.  Then  it 
is  that  discontent  with  his  lot  appears ;  and 
this  discontent  will  last  as  long  as  he  sees 
before  him  some  better  state  yet  unattained 
but  attainable.  From  this  point  of  view 
the  progress  of  the  bulk  of  a  nation  illus- 
trates the  general  progress  of  social  enlight- 
enment. With  every  step  forward,  whether 
in  the  case  of  an  individual,  or  of  a  class, 
or  of  society  at  large,  there  are  revealed  at- 
tractive positions  still  further  on  ;  and  it  is 
the  view  of  these  that  arouses  discontent 
with  the  present ;  it  is  the  view  of  these 
more  attractive  positions  yet  unattained 
that  makes  the  world  move.  The  upward 
movement  in  the  progress  of  society  is  not 
towards  completer  contentment,  but  to- 
wards more  perfect  activity. 

If  one  would  know  the  condition  of  the 
majority  of  the  people  of  the  progressive 
nations  at  the  close  of  this  restless  century, 
he  must  cast  a  glance  over  their  history ; 
and  when  he  does  this  he  will  find  that 


CONFLICT  AND   SOCIALISM.  39 

they  have  risen  from  dependent  and  servile 
positions  to  be  both  independent  and  free. 
In  the  very  early  phases  of  society  they   ^£0^ 
were  essentially  slaves,  and  in  all  respects 
were  subject  to  the  will  of  masters.     Here      ^ 
the  clearly  recognized  relation  was  that  of 
inferior  and  superior.     The  first  step  which  ^^-^^ 
the  workman  took  upward  from  this  lowest         ^ 
position  was  to  the  status  of  a  mediaeval      K 
serf.     Yet  even  after  this  change  one  in-  1 
dustrial  class  held  a  position  of  recognized  V^-^  '^ 
superiority  over  the  other,  and  felt  itself 
charged  with  the  protection  of  the  persons 
below  it;  while  these,  in  turn,  acknowl- 
edged their  subordination  and  dependence. 
From  this  position  the  laborer  in  modern 
times  has  moved  forward  over  two  impor- 
tant stages.     By  the  first  advance  he  be- 
came  a    free    man    under  an   individual 
personal  employer ;  by  the  second  he  became 
the  subject  of  an  industrial  or  commercial 
corporation. 

At  first,  under  the  complete  superiority 
of  the  master,  the  slave  was  immediately 
dependent  on  his  superior,  not  only  for  his 
daily  food  and  clothing,  but  also  for  the 


40  DEMOCRACY  IN  AMERICA. 

privilege  of  life.  Later  the  master's  power 
to  impose  the  extreme  penalty  on  his  slaves 
fell  away,  and  was  taken  up  in  the  power 
of  the  political  sovereign  ;  and  thus,  one  by 
one,  the  acknowledged  prerogatives  of  the 
master  or  employer  were  cut  off,  until  in 
the  beginning  of  this  century,  in  the  more 
enlightened  states  of  the  world,  the  work- 
man stood  as  a  free  man  in  relation  to  the 
employer  for  whom  he  worked.  But  the 
relation  between  them  still  continued  to  be 
a  personal  one.  The  workmen  relied  some- 
what on  the  good-will  of  their  superior, 
and  the  employer  acknowledged  still  a  cer- 
tain moral  obligation  to  hold  towards  his 
workmen  a  kind  of  paternal  attitude,  an 
attitude  implying  something  more  than 
merely  the  pecuniary  obligation  of  a  spe- 
cific contract. 

The  second  stage  in  the  modern  progress 
of  the  working  classes  carries  us  over  im- 
portant phases  of  the  great  industrial  and 
commercial  revolution  of  our  times.  The 
most  significant  feature  of  this  revolution, 
with  reference  to  the  relation  of  employee 
to  employer,  is  the  transition  from  personal 


CONFLICT  AND   SOCIALISM.  41 

to  corporate  industry.  The  introduction  of 
the  machinery  which  followed  the  idea  of 
using  steam  as  a  motor,  gave  beginning  to 
this  transition.  It  produced  important  new 
industries,  and  also  made  it  profitable  to 
aggregate  existing  industries  into  large  es- 
tablishments ;  in  other  words,  it  gave  a  de- 
cided advantage  to  production  on  a  large 
scale.  But  this  involved  greater  risks  than 
any  individual  person  was  willing  to  as- 
sume ;  it  involved,  moreover,  greater  accu- 
mulations of  capital  than  single  private 
persons  could  furnish.  Commercial  and 
industrial  corporations  became,  therefore, 
in  one  sense  necessary.  They  became  ne- 
cessary as  a  means,  where  the  end  was  the 
greatest  possible  economic  advantage  in 
production.  The  superior  profits  of  busi- 
ness on  a  large  scale  was  the  force  which 
called  them  into  existence  ;  and  they  have 
already  in  large  measure  occupied  the  field. 
The  old  industrial  and*  commercial  organi- 
zation is  giving  way  to  a  new  organization, 
in  which  the  personal  employer  disappears 
and  the  laborers  find  themselves  in  new 
and  strange  relations.  They  find  themselves 


42  DEMOCRACY  IN  AMERICA. 

under  an  employer  whose  personality  is 
unknown,  and  with  whom  it  is  impossible 
for  them  to  establish  relations  of  personal 
sympathy. 

With  every  year,  in  the  course  of  this 
revolution,  the  individual  owner  and  em- 
ployer of  capital  is  becoming  relatively  a 
less  important  factor  in  the  industrial 
world.  He  is  supplanted  by  corporations. 
But  the  change  is  in  no  sense  the  result  of 
a  conspiracy  of  the  few  against  the  welfare 
of  the  many.  The  corporation  has  come  into 
prominence  in  obedience  to  an  economic 
law.  It  has  come  into  prominence  in  accord- 
ance with  the  law  that  capital  will  seek 
that  form  of  investment  under  which  it 
will  encounter  a  minimum  of  resistance 
and  a  maximum  of  gain.  In  view  of  the 
inability  of  individual  capitalists  to  under- 
take single-handed  many  of  the  great  indus- 
trial enterprises  demanded  by  the  conditions 
of  modern  life,  and  carry  them  on  on  the 
most  economical  scale,  the  corporation  has 
risen  as  an  economic  expedient,  and  it  is 
supported  by  the  most  permanent  foi'ces 
recognized  in  the  economic  activity  of  soci- 


CONFLICT  AND   SOCIALISM.  43 

ety.  And  it  is  noticeable  that  whenever  a 
hitherto  stagnant  nation,  like  Mexico  or  Ja- 
pan, enters  into  the  list  of  industrially  pro- 
gressive nations,  the  first  conspicuous  sign 
of  the  change  is  the  formation  of  commer- 
cial and  industrial  corporations.  It  be- 
comes clear  to  such  a  nation  very  early 
that  the  means  and  methods  here  involved 
are  necessary  to  enable  it  to  maintain  suc- 
cessful rivalry  with  other  nations.  And 
the  other  side  of  the  proposition  is  equally 
clear :  that  no  nation  can  abandon  corpora- 
tions as  a  part  of  its  commercial  and  indus- 
trial organization  without  losing  its  rank 
among  the  nations.  A  government  might, 
indeed,  withdraw  its  support  from  corpora- 
tions, and  exert  its  influence  directly  to  dis- 
courage their  formation,  but  such  action 
would  not  brins:  back  the  reisrn  of  individ- 
ualism.  It  would  simply  help  to  turn  the 
affairs  of  that  nation  over  to  the  control  of 
foreign  corporations.  Spain  has  done  less 
than  most  other  Western  nations  to  encour- 
age the  formation  of  industrial  and  com- 
mercial corporations,  and,  as  a  consequence, 
her  railways,  her  mines,  her  street-car  lines, 


44  DEMOCRACY  IN  AMERICA. 

and  her  municipal  water-works  are  largely 
in  the  hands  of  French  and  English  corpo- 
rations, and  through  these  interests  the 
Spanish  nation  has  become  hopelessly  tribu- 
tary to  the  foreigner. 

But  the  transition  from  individual  indus- 
try to  the  dominance  of  the  ordinary  cor- 
poration is  only  one  phase  of  the  economic 
progress  in  which  we  are  involved.  An- 
other phase  is  seen  in  the  movement  through 
which  the  earlier  corporations  are  becom- 
ing absorbed  in  the  larger  organizations  or 
trusts.  The  forces  that  have  made  the  cor- 
porations supplant  the  individual  employ- 
ers are  the  same  forces  that  are  carrying  us 
from  the  dominance  of  the  ordinary  corpo- 
ration to  the  dominance  of  the  trust.  They 
are  the  essentially  constant  forces  of  eco- 
nomic development.     All    the   new   insti- 

jtutions  that  arise  in  the  course  of  social 
growth  are  not  the  result  of  new  social 
forces,  but  of  old  forces  finding,  through 

/  new  circumstances,  new  expressions.  The 
economic  motive  that  underlies  individual 
industry  is  the  same  motive  that  has  led  to 
the  formation  and  maintenance  of  Indus- 


CONFLICT  AND   SOCIALISM.  45 

trial  and  commercial  corporations.  By 
this,  corporations  have  come  into  existence, 
and,  in  large  measure,  superseded  individ- 
ual enterprise ;  and  the  same  motive  is  op- 
erating thi'ough  the  changed  circumstances 
of  the  present  to  make  the  trusts  supersede 
the  ordinary  corporation.  The  forces  that 
have  produced  the  trust  are  thus  among 
the  constant  economic  forces  of  society; 
and  the  trust,  or  a  corporation  occupying 
the  field  which  the  trust  proposed  to  oc- 
cupy, will,  therefore,  abide  till  the  changed 
social  circumstances  make  some  other  organ- 
ization more  profitable  for  the  holders  of 
capital. 

But  it  is  urged,  in  objection,  that  under 
the  influence  of  the  comprehensive  corpo- 
ration, or  trust,  the  small  corporation  goes 
to  the  wall.  This  fact  is  too  evident  to  be 
denied ;  but  it  is  like  other  familiar  facts 
to  which  we  have  long  since  ceased  to  ob- 
ject. The  introduction  of  the  labor-saving 
method  or  machine  drives  many  individual 
laborers  to  the  wall ;  but  we  consider  the 
millions  who  are  benefited  by  the  cheap- 
ened products  as  contrasted  with  the  com- 


46  DEMOCRACY  IN  AMERICA. 

paratively  few  who  are  thrown  out  of 
employment,  and  we  refuse  to  go  back  to 
the  old  method  or  to  destroy  our  new  ma- 
chines. The  corporation,  or  the  trust,  is  a 
new  device;  it  is  a  capital-saving  device; 
it  sets  aside  the  small  individual  capitalist, 
but  it  gives  the  consumer  the  possibility 
of  cheaper  wares,  and  the  interests  of  the 
consumer  constitute  the  proper  end  of  eco- 
nomic activity.  The  trust,  moreover,  often 
sets  aside  both  the  individual  capitalist  and 
the  small  corporation  ;  and  it  does  this  be- 
cause it  is  an  economical  device ;  because 
it  is  able  to  supply  the  consumers  at  less 
expense  than  was  possible  under  the  old 
order  of  things.  Because  it  is  economical 
we  refuse  to  seek  to  abolish  it ;  and  we  re- 
fuse to  abolish  it  on  the  same  grounds  that 
we  refuse  to  abolish  the  power-loom  and  a 
thousand  other  devices  whose  practical  intro- 
duction has,  from  time  to  time,  set  aside  large 
numbers  of  laborers  and  small  employers. 
But  the  objection  to  corporations,  or 
trusts,  although  entertained  by  a  different 
class  of  persons,  is  not  greatly  unlike  the 
objections  that  at  various  times  have  given 


CONFLICT  AND   SOCIALISM.  47 

rise  to  machine-breaking  mobs.  These  ob- 
jections have  been  intensified  by  the  stub- 
born and  defiant  attitude  which  the  trust 
and  corporations  have  assumed  towards 
the  government.  But  this  is  not  to  be  \ 
charged  against  the  trusts  or  the  corpora- 1 
tions,  but  against  the  government.  We 
hold  the  government  to  account  for  its 
failure  to  govern.     The  significant  fact  of  / 

this  great  social  transformation  is,  that  a  "^^-^^^  1^ 
new  kind  of  person  has  appeared  on  the  i 
scene — a  powerful,  corporate  person,  not 
contemplated  in  our  early  social  organiza- 
tion.     States  are  organized  in  the  expecta-  'j 
tion  that  certain  individual  persons  will 
resist  the  government  as  long  as  they  are  \  ^^Y'^^^ 
persuaded  they  can  do  it  with  impunity ; 
and  there  is  no  reason  for  a  different  pre- 
sumption with  respect  to  trusts  or  corpora- 
tions. The  main  difference,  as  it  appears  in 
this  country,  is,  that  the  individual,  in  his 
opposition,  has  encountered  a  government 
able   to  subdue  him ;  but,   on   the   other 
hand,  the  government  which  has  been  able 
to  control  the  individual  person  has  shown 
itself,  in  a  large  measure,  incompetent  to 


48  DEMOCRACY  IN  AMERICA. 

compel  obedience  on  the  part  of  the  great 
corporation. 

At  every  turn,  certain  individual  citi- 
zens appear  resisting  the  authority  of  the 
state,  yet  this  fact  does  not  provoke  a  gen- 
eral denunciation  of  citizens  as  such,  or 
cause  a  demand  that  they  be  abolished. 
What  we  request  in  case  of  the  disobedi- 
ence of  the  individual  citizen  is,  that  the 
power  of  the  government  shall  be  mag- 
nified and  asserted  till  the  citizen  shall 
be  subdued.  What  we  have  reason  to  re- 
quest, in  case  corporations  or  trusts  refuse 
to  comply  with  the  laws,  is,  not  the  aboli- 
tion of  all  trusts  and  corporations,  but 
that  the  power  of  the  government  be  mag- 
nified and  asserted  till  all  corporations  and 
trusts  shall  yield  obedience  to  both  the 
letter  and  the  spirit  of  the  law.  If  it  is 
affirmed  that  this  cannot  be  done  without 
bringing  about  a  centralization  of  power 
that  will  do  violence  to  our  institutions, 
by  this  affirmation  is  proclaimed  the  in- 
competency of  our  government  to  perform 
the  work  required  of  it  under  the  condi- 
tions of  modern  life. 


CONFLICT  AND   SOCIALISM.  49 

The  trusts  have  come  into  existence 
through  the  operation  of  permanent  eco- 
nomic forces,  and,  therefore,  appear  to  be 
permanently  established,  or  at  least  estab- 
lished till  some  other  great  social  revolu- ' 
tion  shall  provide  conditions  in  which  the 
economic  forces  of  society  shall  work  out 
a  new  economic  organization.  But  this  '\\X\ 
state  of  things  is  so  remote  that  it  may  be 
left  out  of  the  calculation ;  and  our  pres- 
ent problem  concerning  trusts  and  corpora- 
tions becomes  simply  a  political  problem. 
It  is  not  an  economical,  but  a  governmental 
question  that  faces  us.  It  is  a  question  of 
so  increasing  our  national  administrative 
power  that  the  government  under  which 
we  live  may  be  competent  to  control  effec- 
tively the  powerful  artificial  persons  whose 
recent  rise  has  transformed  modern  soci- 
ety. We  stand,  therefore,  where  we  are 
apparently  obliged  to  choose  between  a 
government  largely  influenced  by  trusts 
and  corporations  and  a  government  strong 
enough  to  hold  individual  and  corporate 
interests  in  a  just  and  even  balance. 

In  the  light   of  recent   experience,  we 


50  DEMOCRACY  IN  AMERICA. 

seem  to  be  brought  face  to  face  with  two 
alternative  propositions.  The  first  is,  that 
"V-  if  corporations  and  trusts  control  the  gov- 
ernment, there  will  necessarily  arise  a 
modification  of  our  present  political  sys- 
tem. The  second  is,  that  if  the  govern- 
ment becomes  sufficiently  strong  and  its 
power  sufficiently  centralized  to  control 
the  corporations,  we  shall  also  have  de- 
parted from  our  ancient  ideal.  If,  there- 
fore, the  problem  of  the  trusts  has  any 
serious  aspect,  it  is  its  political  aspect. 
For  economically  they  fulfil  the  condi- 
tions sought  in  economic  progress.  They 
work  in  the  line  of  new  inventions  and 
increased  efficiency  of  labor.  They  tend 
to  reduce  the  cost  of  production,  and  thus 
make  it  easier  for  the  millions  to  satisfy 
their  ever-recurring  and  increasing  wants. 
If,  therefore,  some  of  our  fellow-citizens 
offer  vigorous  objections  to  corporations 
or  trusts,  their  objections  must  rest  on 
other  than  economic  grounds.  It  may, 
perhaps,  be  objected  to  trusts  either  that 
they  are  sometimes  in  the  position  to  ap- 
ply the  principle    of   monopoly,    or   that 


CONFLICT  AND   SOCIALISM.  5  I 

they  are  supposed  to  involve  a  class  of 
persons  whom  it  is  thought  politically  ex- 
pedient to  oppose.  If  opposition  is  based 
on  their  exercise  of  certain  powers  given 
by  monopoly,  this  opposition  should  reach 
all  cases  of  such  exercise.  It  should 
reach  the  unions  of  laborers  as  well  as  the 
unions  of  capitalists ;  for  when  a  union  of 
laborers  refuses  to  allow  laborers  to  work 
for  certain  specially  designated  persons, 
the  action  is  not  greatly  different  in  prin- 
ciple from  the  refusal  of  a  corporation  of 
coal  dealers  to  sell  coal  to  certain  desig- 
nated retailers.  If,  on  the  other  hand,  the 
opposition  is  raised  as  a  demagogical  appeal 
to  one  class  against  another  class,  it  should 
be  borne  in  mind  that  he  who  makes  such 
an  appeal,  is  undermining  the  founda- 
tion on  which  this  government  rests,  and 
thus,  as  a  conspirator  against  the  common 
weal,  is  deserving  of  the  denunciations  of 
his  fellow-citizens  and  the  brand  of  public 
infamy. 

The  consequences  of  the  loss  of  the  an- 
cient personal  relation  with  their  employers 
were  in  the  first  place,  to  remove  from  the 


52  DEMOCRACY  IN  AMERICA. 

laborers  the  sense  of  a  somewhat  humiliat- 
ing subjection  to  a  personal  superior,  which 
had  hitherto  existed  and  which  still  sur- 
vives in  the  case  of  menial  servants.  The 
employees  of  corporations  have  become 
more  widely  distinguished  from  the  menial 
servants  of  individual  masters  than  were 
the  workmen  under  the  old  order  of  things. 
They  have  become  parts  of  important  so- 
cial organizations. 

A  second  consequence  of  the  change 
from  individual  to  corporate  industry  is 
the  development  of  combination  and  or- 
ganization in  each  of  the  two  parties  in- 
volved in  production,  namely,  those  who 
furnish  the  capital,  and  those  who  furnish 
the  labor.  The  fact  of  combination  among 
laborers  indicates  that  they  have  at  last 
come  to  understand  that  they  must  look  to 
themselves  for  the  maintenance  of  their 
cause,  and  not  to  the  good  intentions  of  a 
superior.  The  combination  of  laborers  at- 
tains a  certain  purpose  in  preparing  them 
to  stand  as  a  unit  over  against  their  united 
employers,  and  thus  to  bring  the  questions 
at  issue  between  the  parties  to  a  settlement 


CONFLICT  AND   SOCIALISM.  53 

by  conflict,  as  at  present  all  the  more  im- 
portant social  questions  are  settled. 

The  immediate  end  of  the  agitation  in 
which  the  laborers  of  to-day  are  engaged, 
is  the  preparation  of  the  laborers  as  a  class 
for  conflict  with  employers  as  a  class,  in 
order  that  through  this  struggle  there  may 
result  a  satisfactoiy  division  of  the  pro- 
ducts of  industry.  How  large  the  portion 
of  either  party  should  be  may  not  be  de- 
termined independently,  under  the  present 
industrial  order,  by  either  the  laborers  or 
the  employers.  And  herein  lies  the  prin- 
cipal unsolved  problem  of  economics,  which 
is,  to  find  some  formula  and  some  practical 
means  for  distributing  the  results  of  pro- 
duction in  a  manner  satisfactory  to  all  the 
agents  concerned.  At  present,  we  know 
no  method  but  that  of  conflict  by  which 
the  gross  product  may  be  properly  distrib- 
uted among  the  agents  co-operating  in 
production.  As  we  already  know,  the 
good-will  of  employers  is  no  longer  con- 
sidered adequate  to  this  end,  and  no  third 
party  has  the  knowledge  necessary  to  draw 
the  line  of  distribution.    We  are,  therefore, 


54  DEMOCRACY  IN  AMERICA. 

driven  to  rely  upon  a  free  and  independ- 
ent contest  between  the  parties  concerned  ; 
and  in  this  we  adopt  a  method  that  has 
been  conspicuously  employed  in  determin- 
ing also  political  questions. 

Our  present  method  of  determining  im- 
portant social  relations  by  conflict,  repre- 
sents the  widest  possible  departure  from 
mediaeval  practice,  and  stands  as  the  latest 
achievement  which  has  been  made  in  this 
direction  by  enlightened  nations.  But  it 
cannot  be  regarded  as  necessarily  the  ulti- 
mate method  of  determining  private  rela- 
tions, any  more  than  the  holding  of  vast 
armies,  as  in  modern  Europe,  is  the  ulti- 
mate method  of  maintaining  proper  inter- 
national relations.  Within  the  field  of 
industry,  however,  the  application  of  the 
principle  of  conflict  is  practically  univer- 
sal ;  and  in  politics,  the  advance  from 
absolutism  to  democracy  shows  a  move- 
ment towards  a  condition  in  which  politi- 
cal determinations  are  reached  by  a  similar 
resort  to  conflict. 

If,  now,  we  compare  a  society,  in  which 
conclusions  are  reached  through  conflict, 


CONFLICT  AND   SOCIALISM.  55 

with  one  in  which  all  social  relations  were 
determined  by  the  independent  decision  of 
a  permanent  superior,  we  shall  find  that  a 
new  feature  of  social  organization  has  ap- 
peared in  the  world.  Under  this  later 
order,  persons  seeking  what  they  feel  to  be 
their  due,  refuse  to  trust  their  affairs  in 
the  hands  of  a  superior.  They  decline  to 
accept  a  superior's  sense  of  duty,  as  it  has 
hitherto  appeared,  as  a  sufficient  guarantee. 
On  the  contrary,  they  hold  that  the  history 
of  trusts  betrayed,  of  class  oppressed  by 
class,  warrants  the  conclusion  that  the  un- 
aided sense  of  duty  has  been  inadequate  to 
determine  and  preserve  among  them  their 
proper  relations.  Laborers  do  not  believe 
that  their  employers  will  accord  to  them 
their  deserts,  unless  some  other  force  than 
the  sense  of  duty  is  made  to  operate  on  the 
minds  of  the  employers.  The  members  of 
a  body  politic,  by  centuries  of  painful  ex- 
perience, have  come  to  the  conclusion,  that 
a  personal  political  superior,  independent 
of  those  in  subjection  to  him,  needs  some 
other  guiding  force  than  duty  to  keep  his 
action   consistently   advantageous    to   the 


56  DEMOCRACY  IN  AMERICA. 

subjects.  In  the  field  of  economical  and 
political  relations,  we  see  the  inadequacy 
of  the  sense  of  duty  to  produce  results 
sometimes  expected  of  it ;  and  thus  while 
generations  have  been  dreaming  of  an  age 
of  peace,  when  the  lion  would  unselfishly 
look  out  for  the  interests  of  the  lamb,  the 
actual  progress  of  society  has  been  marked 
by  a  more  and  more  extensive  application 
of  some  form  of  conflict. 

And  here  we  reach  a  critical  point.  If 
the  division  of  the  total  product  of  industry 
between  the  laborers  and  the  owners  of 
capital  must  be  determined  by  some  foi'ra 
of  conflict,  it  is  of  the  highest  importance 
for  the  laborers  to  know  what  form  is  the 
most  expedient.  Speaking  very  generally, 
recent  economic  history  shows  us  two  forms. 
Under  the  first  there  is  the  completest 
combination  of  laborers  possible,  followed 
by  attempts  to  persuade  the  employers,  and 
finally  withdrawal  from  work.  The  effec- 
tiveness of  this  method  clearly  depends  upon 
the  comprehensiveness  of  the  combination, 
the  binding  force  of  the  agreement,  and  the 
prevention  of  the  importation  of  workmen. 


CONFLICT  AND   SOCIALISM.  57 

The  other  method  of  engaging  in  the 
conflict  is  to  form  somewhat  exclusive  as- 
sociations, no  special  effort  being  made  to 
make  the  organizations  comprehensive  of 
all  the  laborers  in  the  field,  and  then  to 
rely  upon  force  to  prevent  persons  not  in 
these  associations  from  taking  positions 
abandoned  by  laborers  on  strike.  No  one 
in  sympathy  with  the  great  body  of  work- 
ers, who  has  followed  the  history  of  antago- 
nisms that  have  resulted  in  class  wars,  can 
but  feel  grave  anxiety  in  view  of  the  grow- 
ing disposition  to  let  physical  force  play  a 
part  in  the  conflict  between  laborers  and 
their  employers.  They  are  solicitous  not 
because  they  see,  in  existing  forms  of  so- 
ciety, any  other  means  than  conflict  for 
settling  these  questions,  nor  because  they 
allow  the  consideration  of  the  few  lives 
that  may  be  lost  to  overbalance  a  great 
good,  but  because  they  are  convinced  that 
by  the  use  of  illegal  force  the  desired  end 
cannot  be  reached.  The  great  achievements 
in  behalf  of  the  working  classes,  in  behalf 
of  the  great  body  of  the  people,  are  likely 
to  be  won  in  the  future,  as  they  have  been 


58  DEMOCRACY  IN  AMERICA. 

won  in  the  past,  through  bloodless  conflict. 
Through  a  long  course  of  centuries,  the 
common  people  of  England  struggled  for 
economical  advantages  and  for  positions  of 
power  against  an  arbitrary  king  and  an 
overbearing  aristocracy,  and  yet  their  effect- 
ive weapons,  the  weapons  by  which  their 
victory  was  won,  were  never  the  weapons 
of  death.  The  armed  efforts  of  Wat  Tyler 
and  Jack  Cade  hindered  rather  than  helped 
the  political  and  social  amelioration  of  the 
people. 

The  common  people  of  England  have 
won  their  cause  by  closing  the  conflict  be- 
fore it  reached  the  phase  of  military  force. 
And  in  the  French  Revolution,  practically 
all  that  was  gained  for  the  people  was 
gained  before  a  drop  of  blood  had  been 
spilt.  The  history  of  the  world  brings  us 
this  conclusion,  that  whenever  one  class 
in  society  raises  its  arm  to  strike  down 
another  class,  by  that  very  act  it  casts  away 
its  liberties.  In  the  Roman  republic  there 
were  grave  social  questions  on  which  the 
classes  were  divided,  and  when  finally  they 
grew  impatient  and  attempted  to  reach  a 


CONFLICT  AND   SOCIALISM.  59 

solution  by  force,  or  to  settle  their  differ- 
ences under  arms,  the  fact  of  victory  was 
of  no  importance  to  either  party ;  the  lib- 
erties of  both  parties  disappeared  in  the 
social  war.  It  was,  in  fact,  the  leader  of 
the  triumphant  popular  party,  the  friend  of 
the  people,  who  laid  the  foundations  of  the 
Koman  Empire,  in  which  popular  rights 
were  lost,  and  the  ancient  valor  and  virtue 
of  the  Roman  citizen  disappeared  from  the 
state.  Thus  it  might  be  in  the  American 
republic  ;  and  it  is  for  this  reason  that 
every  lover  of  his  countiy  and  its  liberties, 
is  filled  with  apprehension  at  any  sign  of 
an  approaching  war  of  classes.  In  a  coun- 
try where  one  part  is  closely  bound  to 
other  parts  by  important  economic  inter- 
ests there  is  no  ground  of  fear  that  in  class 
contentions  order  may  permanently  disap- 
pear ;  for  this  will  be  maintained,  though 
liberty  perish.  By  magnifying  class  antag- 
onism, w^e  prepare  the  way  for  the  domina- 
tion of  a  few  ;  by  carrying  this  antagonism 
to  an  extreme,  we  prepare  for  the  domina- 
tion of  one. 

This  does  not  mean,  however,  that  we  look 


6o  DEMOCRACY  IN  AMERICA. 

to  a  condition  of  social  rest  and  quiet  as 
the  ideal  of  society.  On  the  contrary,  we 
hold  that  strong  internal  movement,  the 
vigorous  action  and  counteraction  of  ele- 
ments, the  rivalry  of  classes,  and  the 
determined  ambition  of  individuals  are 
characteristic  of  healthy  social  life.  It  is 
not  enough  that  an  individual  or  a  class  is 
conscious  of  his  rights  ;  it  is  not  enough 
that  the  various  social  elements  have  once 
rested  in  equilibrium  ;  it  is  not  enough  that 
the  laborers  to-day  are  satisfied  with  their 
hire,  or  the  employers  with  their  profits ; 
every  revolving  year  brings  new  conditions 
and  the  possible  necessity  of  a  new  adjust- 
ment. With  no  all-wise  and  all-powerful 
social  arbiter  possible,  who  may  fix  by  de- 
cree the  relations  of  persons  and  classes, 
there  has  appeared,  down  to  the  present, 
no  way  to  the  solution  we  seek,  except 
through  the  action  and  counteraction  of 
clashing  elements.  There  may  result  tur- 
moil and  confusion,  the  uproar  of  social 
rivalry  and  conflict,  and  yet,  even  under  the 
dominance  of  this  principle,  we  may  expect 
a  better  order  and  a  more  exalted  social  life. 


CONFLICT  AND   SOCIALISM.  6 1 

Yet  now  and  tben  in  the  history  of  the 
world — and  often  when  progress  is  most 
rapid — men  become  impatient  and  dis- 
trustful of  the  means  by  which  advances 
have  hitherto  been  made.  Something  of 
this  is  manifest  in  the  socialistic  demands 
made  by  certain  groups  of  laborers.  They 
consider  that  the  competitive  order,  with 
its  vaiying  appeals  to  conflict,  has  been 
tried  and  found  wanting.  They  look  with 
marvellous  optimism  to  a  centralization  of 
industrial  activity  under  socialistic  control. 
It  may  be  true  that  as  society  grows  more 
and  more  complex,  its  drift  is  inevitably 
towards  such  centralization ;  yet  it  does  not 
necessarily  follow  that  such  a  drift  carries 
it  on  to  positions  more  and  more  desirable 
for  the  individual  workers.  To  determine 
some  of  the  characteristic  featui'es  of  a 
society  growing  towards  more  complete 
socialistic  centralization,  and  the  position 
of  the  laborer  as  a  member  of  this  society, 
we  start  from  the  familiar  fact  of  the  sepa- 
ration of  employments.  The  multiplica- 
tion of  employments  is  to  such  an  extent 
a  characteristic  feature  of  developing   so- 


62  DEMOCRACY  IN  AMERICA. 

ciety  that  it  becomes  in  some  sense  a  means 
of  measuring  social  progress.  In  the  ad- 
vance of  civilization  in  the  past,  there  has 
been  a  movement  from  general  to  special 
work,  and  there  is  no  indication  in  the 
present  that  this  tendency  has  reached  its 
possible  limit.  On  the  other  hand,  there 
is  abundant  ground  for  the  expectation  that 
the  separation  of  trades  will  be  carried  in 
the  future  very  far  beyond  its  present  con- 
dition. The  forces  which  have  produced 
results  already  observed  are  as  powerful 
now  as  they  ever  were.  If  the  makers  of 
machines  have  been  supplanted  by  the 
makers  of  parts  of  machines,  it  is  clearly 
because  there  is  an  economic  advantage  in 
the  latter  method  ;  and  as  long  as  this 
advantage  may  be  had  by  this  means,  we 
may  expect  that  this  process  of  separating 
trades  into  minor  trades  will  continue. 

Perhaps  the  most  important  consequence 
of  this  movement  is  the  fact  that  by  this 
increasing  division  of  labor,  and  the  neces- 
saiy  co-operation  among  the  separate  pro- 
ducers, there  is  brought  about  a  more 
complete   unity    of    society,  a   more   per- 


CONFLICT  AND   SOCIALISM.  63 

feet  harmony  and  consolidation  of  inter- 
ests. For  the  great  body  of  the  produ- 
cers of  a  community  or  a  nation  work  in 
vain  unless  each  finds  his  surplus  product 
demanded  by  others.  In  other  words,  a 
community,  or  a  nation,  in  which  there  is  a 
distribution  of  many  trades  among  many 
j^ersons,  appears  from  one  point  of  view  as 
a  great  co-operative  association,  the  end  of 
its  activity  being  the  greatest  possible 
accumulation  of  the  means  of  satisfaction. 
Every  step  forward  in  the  division  of  em- 
ployments is  necessarily  followed  by  a 
closer  union  and  completer  co-operation  of 
the  members  of  the  community  in  which 
this  division  is  made.  With  the  extension 
of  this  separation  of  trades,  the  individual 
worker  becomes  more  and  more  interested 
in  the  ability  and  success  of  the  workers 
in  other  special  lines,  for  without  their 
product  his  product  is  useless.  This  is 
true  not  merely  of  the  narrow  special 
trades,  but  applies  also  to  the  great  depart- 
ments of  human  effort.  The  growth  of 
society  is  simply  another  name  for  increas- 
ing  interdependence    among   the   persons 


64  DEMOCRACY  IN  AMERICA. 

who  compose  it.  In  very  low  stages  of 
civilization,  the  individual  man  may  be 
taken  as  the  unit,  for  with  his  hunting 
weapons  he  is  practically  self-sufficing. 
But  in  the  highest  stages,  the  individual 
or  the  group  of  individuals  engaged  in  a 
single  industry  cannot  be  regarded  as  a 
self-sufiScing  unit,  for  each  is  an  element  in 
a  great  scheme  of  co-operation.  Therefore, 
through  specialization  of  work,  and  the 
division  of  employments  into  separate 
trades,  communities  and  nations  grow  into 
more  and  more  perfectly  organized  bodies, 
and  the  economic  interests  of  the  individu- 
als come  to  be  more  and  more  bound  up  in 
the  economic  welfare  of  the  whole. 

If  we  turn  to  the  facts  and  tendencies 
of  government  we  shall  find  another  illus- 
tration of  increasing  specialization  and 
co-operation.  Properly  conceived,  the  gov- 
ernment of  a  state  is  a  great  cooperative 
association  in  which  the  citizens  are  mem- 
bers. One  of  its  simplest  forms  may  be 
found  in  an  ancient  canton  of  Switzerland 
or  a  mining  camp  of  California.  Govern- 
mental action  appeared  in  these  cases  when 


CONFLICT  AND   SOCIALISM.  65 

there  arose  some  task  to  be  performed,  in 
which  all,  or  a  large  part  of  the  members 
of  the  canton  or  the  camp,  were  either 
equally  or  in  some  measure  interested.  If 
a  road  was  needed,  some  person  was  au- 
thorized by  the  camp  or  the  canton  to  have 
it  built,  and  to  collect  money  to  pay  for 
the  work  done.  After  the  completion  of 
the  undertaking,  the  person  who  had  been 
charged  with  it,  resumed  his  place  in  the 
ranks  of  the  community,  and  returned  to 
his  private  affairs.  This  person  while  act- 
ing for  the  community  was  the  government. 
The  difference  between  this  government 
and  that  of  a  modern  state  is  that  the  one 
is  exceedingly  simple,  while  the  other  is 
complex.  In  one,  the  public  business  is 
not  sufficient  to  keep  the  agent  of  the  com- 
munity constantly  employed,  while  in  the 
other,  not  only  one  but  many  are  kept  in 
constant  service.  The  progress  from  the 
simple  government  with  few  officers  and 
little  public  work,  to  the  government  with 
many  officers  and  much  public  work  is 
by  a  process  of  division  of  labor,  on  the 
one  hand,  and  on  the  other  hand,  by  the 


66  DEMOCRACY  IN  AMERICA. 

encroachment  of  the  government  upon  fields 
earlier  regarded  as  the  sphere  of  individual 
activity.  This  encroachment  indicates  tw^o 
things :  1.  That  men  have  an  increasing 
faith  in  the  efficiency  of  the  government 
as  an  agent.  2.  That  they  are  finding  more 
and  more  things  which  they  can  do  advan- 
tageously through  co-operation. 

Whether  we  consider  the  extension  of 
the  division  of  employments  on  the  eco- 
nomic or  the  political  side  of  society,  in 
either  case  it  is  attended  by  an  enlarge- 
ment of  the  field  of  co-operation,  and  the 
motive  is  always  the  desire  for  advantage. 

This  indicates  that  in  the  normally  devel- 
oping society  there  is  a  movement  towards 
a  condition  akin  to  that  contemplated  in 
the  socialistic  ideal.  The  separation  of 
trades  and  the  co-operation  of  workers  give 
a  community  a  compact  economic  organiza- 
tion and  unity ;  and  the  multiplication  of 
political  offices,  in  the  course  of  develop- 
ment from  the  simple  to  the  complex 
state,  points  to  the  enlargement  of  govern- 
mental functions,  and  a  consequent  larger 
control  of  economic  interests,  thus  realizing, 


CONFLICT  AND   SOCIALISM.  6/ 

at  least  in  some  measure,  the  fundamental 
expectation  of  the  great  body  of  the  nation, 
that  in  progressive  society  the  government 
is  to  have  an  increasing  part  in  conducting 
practical  affairs. 

The  error  in  calculation  begins  when 
those  who  have  become  dissatisfied  with 
the  determinations  of  a  personal  superior, 
and  the  outcome  of  competitive  conflict, 
expect  that  governmental  control  will  ren- 
der them  the  peculiar  satisfactions  which 
they  seek,  with  no  possibility  of  failure. 
This  expectation  is  in  no  sense  a  logical 
conclusion  from  the  data  in  hand.  It  is  a 
case  of  interpreting  a  social  movement 
according  to  desires  and  not  according 
to  reason.  It  is  attaching  consequences 
to  an  observed  social  change  without 
taking  account  of  the  possibilities  and 
impossibilities  of  the  case,  or  without 
checking  expectations  respecting  the  im- 
mediate future  by  the  known  tendencies 
of  the  past  and  the  present.  Those  who 
entertain  these  expectations  derive  them 
from  a  picture  of  life  which  has  been  im- 
pressed upon  their  minds  by  the  fancy,  and 


68  DEMOCRACY  IN  AMERICA. 

has  been  accepted  without  an  attempt  to 
confirm  it  by  the  facts  of  such  socialistic 
progress  as  has  already  been  made  in  certain 
departments  of  public  activity.  With  re- 
spect to  the  immediate  future,  conclusions 
drawn  from  the  facts  and  tendencies  of 
socialistic  centralization,  where  this  has 
been  realized,  are  likely  to  be  reliable  for 
the  following  reasons.  In  the  first  place, 
certain  departments  which  are  now  organ- 
ized on  a  socialistic  basis  in  certain  existing 
states,  are  so  independent,  so  completely 
non-competing  with  respect  to  other  de- 
partments that  their  organization  would 
not  be  greatly  changed  if  the  socialistic 
form  of  management  were  extended  to  all 
departments.  In  the  second  place,  if  there 
are  forces  in  society  as  at  present  consti- 
tuted which  are  making  its  organization 
socialistic,  in  other  words,  bringing  it  to  a 
more  complete  solidarity,  and  subjecting 
all  its  interests  to  a  more  perfect  control 
through  a  central  authority,  it  does  not 
appear  reasonable  that  society  is  to  be  car- 
ried on  towards  this  ideal  by  these  forces, 
and  then  at  some  undetermined  point  sud- 


CONFLICT  AND   SOCIALISM.  69 

denly  be  turned  over  to  the  operation  of 
other  and  different  forces.  This  is  not  the 
manner  in  which  society  grows.  The  forces 
which  carry  a  social  policy  on  to  victory  are 
the  same  forces  that  will  be  operative  in  up- 
holding and  directing  this  policy  after  its 
victory  has  been  won ;  they  are  the  forces  on 
which  it  must  rely  in  the  period  of  its  dom- 
ination. Therefore,  in  so  far  as  there  are 
actual  socialistic  tendencies  observable  in 
existing  society,  they  furnish  our  best  inti- 
mations of  the  characteristics  of  a  society 
extensively  realizing  socialistic  principles. 
And  already  in  certain  places  the  move- 
ment has  gone  far  enough  to  enable  us  to 
estimate  some  of  the  results.  In  some 
European  states,  the  army,  the  schools,  the 
post  and  the  telegraph,  certain  railroads, 
the  manufacture  and  distribution  of  to- 
bacco and  spirituous  liquors  are  subject  to 
the  socialistic  form  of  management,  but  in 
these  instances  there  is  not  revealed  a  wide 
departure  from  the  principles  and  practices 
involved  in  the  manaojement  of  the  affairs 
of  great  corporations.  In  fact,  the  methods 
of  the  successful  management  of  a  depart- 


70  DEMOCRACY  IN  AMERICA. 

ment  of  business  are  prescribed  by  the 
nature  of  the  business  itself.  If  we  may 
judge  from  the  socialistic  practice  as  exem- 
plified in  the  German  army,  or  in  the 
German  educational  system,  or  in  the  state 
railroads  in  Germany,  socialism  is  not  likely 
to  gratify  any  expectations  of  those  who 
are  looking  for  an  easy  way  up  to  impor- 
tant places.  The  nature  of  the  place  fixes 
the  conditions  of  holding  it,  which  must 
be  met ;  and  whether  the  filling  of  it  is  in 
the  hands  of  the  centralized  authority  of 
the  state,  or  in  the  hands  of  a  corporation, 
or  in  the  hands  of  a  private  person,  the 
essential  features  of  these  conditions  must 
be  complied  with.  Even  under  a  social- 
istic state  organized  by  universal  suffrage, 
the  care  and  tlie  use  of  the  locomotives 
employed  by  the  state  could  not  be  turned 
over  to  persons  whose  previous  experience 
with  railroads  had  been  confined  to  grading 
the  track.  The  nature  of  places  fixes  the 
qualifications  which  must  be  met  by  those 
who  would  fill  them ;  and  this  applies  to 
all  the  occupations  to  which  men  aspire, 
and  it  is  more  emphatically  true  where  the 


CONFLICT  AND   SOCIALISM.  /I 

separation  of  trades  and  professions  has 
been  carried  to  a  great  length,  as  in  the 
more  advanced  phases  of  society. 

It  may  be  affirmed,  moreover,  that  the 
expectation  that  social  equality  will  be 
realized  under  socialism  is  likely  to  prove 
a  delusive  hope ;  for,  down  to  the  present, 
amono:  all  the  instances  of  socialistic  or- 
ganization  there  is  no  prominent  indica- 
tion that  the  forces  which  are  making  for 
socialism  are  at  the  same  time  making  for 
equality  of  social  condition.  Germany  has 
more  conspicuous  socialistic  features  than 
most  of  the  other  nations,  yet  thus  far  the 
practical  socialism  of  Germany  has  not 
been  attended  by  any  marked  progress 
towards  this  form  of  equality.  There  are, 
indeed,  certain  considerations  which  indi- 
cate that  under  socialism  differences  of 
rank  and  standing  would  be  emphasized. 
When,  as  in  existing  society,  men  are  free 
to  own  and  manage  private  capital,  or  to 
take  place  under  the  government,  or  to 
serve  private  corporations,  there  are  many 
ways  open  to  them  to  secure  social  rec- 
ognition.    One   expects  it  on  account    of 


72  DEMOCRACY  IN  AMERICA. 

his  official  position,  another  for  his  achieve- 
ments as  a  captain  of  industry,  another  for 
his  inherited  fortune  which  permits  him 
to  live  without  engaging  in  business  ;  but 
under  socialism,  with  no  private  capital, 
there  would  still  remain  the  desire  for 
distinction,  and  nearly  all  persons  would 
be  driven  to  claim  recognition  on  account 
of  the  positions  held  by  them  under  the 
authority  of  the  state.  The  number  of 
these  positions  would,  of  course,  be  greatly 
increased,  but  practically  the  whole  popu- 
lation would  become  competitoi's  for  them. 
The  whole  population  would  become  com- 
petitors for  office ;  and  it  goes  without 
saying  that  nowhere  else  are  the  lines  of 
social  precedence  so  strictly  drawn  as  in 
official  life. 

Moreover,  in  the  progress  already  made 
towards  socialism  there  is  revealed  no  tend- 
ency to  make  authority  less  exacting,  or 
discipline,  under  this  authority,  less  rigid 
than  at  present.  The  large  increase  of  pub- 
lic departments,  and  the  multiplication  of 
public  duties,  would  bring  the  economico- 
political  body  into  such  a  condition  that  it 


CONFLICT  AND   SOCIALISM.  73 

could  be  maintained  only  through  the  most 
thorough  organization  and  the  most  rigid 
discipline ;  and  this  would  be  true  whether 
the  authority  was  of  a  democratic  or  a 
monarchical  origin ;  for  it  is  of  the  nature 
of  such  a  body,  once  constituted,  to  exercise 
those  powers  which  are  necessaiy  for  its 
preservation,  provided  they  are  within  its 
reach.  Confirmation  of  this  is  found  in 
every  line  of  our  socialistic  experience. 
Who  would  have  freedom  from  discipline, 
and  the  easy  condition  which  arises  from 
lax  social  organization,  should  look  away 
from  socialism.  The  promised  land  for 
such  persons  as  these  lies  not  at  the  cul- 
mination of  socialistic  tendencies,  but  in 
the  individualistic  past,  when  the  bonds 
of  social  organization  were  not  closely 
drawn,  and  when  the  individual  had  to 
consult  little  else  than  his  personal  ca- 
price. Under  socialism,  in  which  would 
be  realized  the  completest  division  of  em- 
ployments and  the  most  perfect  co-operation 
of  the  members  of  society,  each  person 
would  be  obliged  to  keep  pace  with  those 
of  his  own  rank.     Even  now,  while  yet  far 


74  DEMOCRACY  IN  AMERICA. 

from  the  socialistic  ideal,  any  man  who 
takes  and  holds  a  place  in  the  present  com- 
pact industrial  organization  is  obliged  to 
time  his  movements  with  the  general 
movement.  This  condition  of  things  finds 
an  illustration  in  three  men  swinging  their 
hammers  at  the  same  time  to  forge  a  single 
bar  of  iron.  The  rapidity  of  each  man's 
stroke  must  keep  time  with  the  blows  of 
the  others.  Under  the  complete  co-opera- 
tion of  socialism,  each  man  would  be  ex- 
pected to  swing  his  hammer  in  time  with 
his  fellows.  But,  under  existing  circum- 
stances, there  are  those  who  fail  to  keep  up 
their  parts,  and  are  obliged  to  yield  their 
places  to  the  merciless  strength  of  youth ; 
and  if  tendencies  thus  far  observed  furnish 
a  reliable  basis  for  a  conclusion,  the  condi- 
tions of  completed  socialism  would  not  be 
greatly  different. 

The  tendencies  manifest  in  social  develop- 
ment and  the  conduct  of  existing  society, 
with  respect  to  those  who  fall  by  the  way, 
or  whose  defective  powers  are  inadequate 
to  their  proper  support  and  guidance,  in- 
dicate that  the  public  organization,  under 


CONFLICT  AND   SOCIALISM.  75 

whatever  change  the  future  may  bring  to 
it,  will  continue  to  recognize,  as  it  recog- 
nizes now,  the  necessity  of  furnishing  main- 
tenance in  certain  cases  without  expecting 
return  service.  And  in  existing  conditions, 
or  in  the  conditions  of  the  past,  there  is  no 
indication  that  such  support  will  be  ren- 
dered without  arranging  the  claimants  into 
classes,  as  they  are  arranged  now — as  the 
paupers,  the  adult  and  helpless  blind,  the 
idiots,  and  the  insane.  But  there  is  no 
tendency  yet  observable  in  the  advance 
towards  socialism  to  break  down  the  dis- 
tinction between  those  who  contribute  to 
the  national  wealth  and  those  who  would 
merely  draw  from  it. 

The  considerations  here  advanced  only 
furnish  hints  as  to  what  might  be  reason- 
ably expected  in  case  social  development 
should  proceed  along  lines  hitherto  fol- 
lowed, but  they  are  sufficient  to  indicate 
that  by  reason  of  the  increasing  complexity 
of  society,  the  various  elements  are  becom- 
ing more  and  more  interdependent ;  that  the 
principle  of  co-operation  is  becoming  more 
and  more  extensively  realized  ;  and  that  as 


y6  DEMOCRACY  IN  AMERICA. 

a  necessary  consequence  of  the  extension  of 
co-operation  the  functions  of  the  social  or- 
ganization are  becoming  enlarged.  These 
considerations  indicate,  moreover,  that  un- 
der a  new  social  order,  even  if  it  shall  be 
socialistic,  those  who  expect  a  kind  of  ma- 
terial millenium,  in  which  will  be  provided 
an  easy  way  to  positions  of  power  and 
abundant  means  of  personal  satisfaction,  are 
doomed  to  be  disappointed.  There  is  no 
evidence  that  theii*  expectations  will  be  re- 
alized. Even  should  it  be  true  that  we  are 
drifting  towards  a  condition  of  society  in 
which  something  answering  to  the  social- 
istic ideal  will  be  attained,  it,  nevertheless, 
does  not  appear  that  under  that  order  the 
sharp  rivalry  for  position  will  be  avoided,  or 
that  equality  of  conditions  will  be  achieved 
and  maintained  ;  and  there  is  no  indication 
in  the  history  of  the  past  that  society  will 
ever  establish  itself  permanently  in  such  a 
form  that  the  struggle  for  life  will  cease, 
and  that  it  will  not  discriminate  against  the 
vicious,  the  defective,  and  the  indolent,  and 
in  favor  of  the  virtuous,  the  industrious,  and 
the  efficient. 


CONFLICT  AND   SOCIALISM.  yy 

From  the  nature  and  movement  of  so- 
ciety in  the  past,  it  may  be  reasonably  con- 
cluded that  whatever  wishes  are  entertained 
respecting  socialism,  however  strong  may 
be  the  desires  of  individuals  to  see  the 
democratic  body  of  the  people  control  the 
economic  and  political  affairs  of  the  nation, 
with  an  authority  in  which  all  shall  have 
equal  shares,  there  still  remains  the  stub- 
born and  unavoidable  fact  that  public 
management  which  will  be  effective  in 
maintaining  order  and  the  conditions  of 
social  progress,  will  presume  the  concentra- 
tion of  administrative  power  and  the  neces- 
sary surrender  of  certain  individual  desires 
to  the  common  interest,  and  that,  too, 
whether  the  ultimate  authority  is  conceived 
of  as  residing  in  the  whole  body  of  the 
people  or  in  a  small  number. 


LECTURE  III. 

EDUCATION     AND    DEMOCRACY. 

IN  the  process  of  organizing  laborers  and 
setting  them  in  opposition  to  employ- 
ers, the  fundamental  tendency  towards 
inequality  already  considered  is  strength- 
ened and  confirmed ;  and  the  growth 
towards  unity  and  compactness  of  organ- 
ization, which  points  towards  the  realiza- 
tion of  some  phases  of  the  socialistic  ideal, 
does  not  appear  to  set  aside  this  tendency. 
There  are,  however,  forces  in  progressive 
society,  which  seem  to  counteract  the 
movement  towards  inequality,  and  in  some 
measure  help  to  preserve  the  basis  of 
democi-acy.  These  forces  do  not  tend 
to  put  down  persons  who  have  become 
prominent,  but  contribute  opportunities 
for  all  to  rise.  To  put  down  the  conspic- 
uous has  never  been  a  prominent  aim  of 

78 


EDUCATION  AND  DEMOCRACY.  79 

democracy  as  it  has  appeared  in  this 
country.  The  spirit  of  our  society  has 
not  demanded  that  the  successful  shall  be 
overthrown:  rather  that  the  accumulated 
wealth  and  the  accumulated  wisdom 
of  the  nation  shall  be  so  used  as  to 
provide  opportunities  for  the  advance- 
ment of  the  worthy  of  whatever  origin. 
As  democratic  government  is  the  outgrowth 
of  equality,  so  in  its  enlightened  activity 
it  seeks  to  preserve  equality.  In  the 
pursuit  of  this  purpose  the  public  schools 
furnish  its  most  effective  agency.  They 
act  as  a  levelling  force,  not  by  pulling 
down,  but  by  lifting  up.  In  some  coun- 
tries, where  the  aristocratic  spirit  is  still 
strong,  the  richest  members  of  society,  who 
are  able  now  to  pay  the  expenses  of  educat- 
ing their  sons,  object  to  the  introduction 
of  free  public  instruction,  because  it  would 
give  the  sons  of  the  poor  opportunities  to 
prepare  themselves  to  compete  with  the 
rich,  in  the  professions  and  in  all  callings 
requiring  education,  and  thus  rob  wealth 
of  one  of  its  advantages  ;  because  it  would 
throw  down  the  barrier  of  inequality,  and 


80  DEMOCRACY  IN  AMERICA. 

clear  the  way  for  the  ambitious  poor  to 
advance.  Free  public  instruction  opens 
to  the  great  mass  of  the  people,  to  the 
persons  of  small  fortunes  or  limited  in- 
comes, the  opportunity  of  placing  their 
sons  in  successful  rivalry  with  those  who 
have  the  support  of  great  wealth.  It  is 
particularly  important  from  this  point  of 
view  that  under  democracy  all  instruction, 
the  highest  as  well  as  the  lowest,  should 
be  free,  since  the  highest  form  of  instruc- 
tion is  of  all  the  most  costly  and  the  most 
difficult  for  individual  effort  to  furnish. 
If  all  the  lower  schools  were  free,  and 
university  instruction  were  supported  by  the 
fees  of  students,  this  order  of  things  would 
constitute  an  insurmountable  obstacle  to 
the  poor  and  to  all  persons  of  inferior 
incomes ;  it  would  give  us  that  condition 
of  affairs  which  makes  the  member  of  the 
aristocracy  rejoice  that  his  sons  are  released 
from  the  necessity  of  competing  with  the 
poor.  A  free  university  is,  therefore,  the 
best  expression  of  the  democratic  spirit  in 
an  enlightened  society.  In  obedience  to 
the  demands  of  true  democracy,  the  high- 


EDUCATION  AND  DEMOCRACY.  8 1 

est  instruction  must  not  only  be  free,  but 
it  must  also  be  equal  to  the  best.  The 
university  of  a  democratic  commonwealth 
must,  therefore,  be  a  great  univei^sity,  in 
order  that  those  who  are  unable  to  go  to 
the  conspicuous  centres  of  learning  in 
foreign  countries,  may  be  as  well  equipped 
in  knowledge  and  training  as  their  rivals, 
who  have  been  able  to  avail  themselves 
of  all  the  advantages  the  world  has  to 
offer.  Thus  the  great  and  free  university 
stands  as  the  most  efficient  contributor  to 
equality  on  the  higher  planes  of  existence. 
A  monarchy  may  exist  in  stability,  even 
though  the  great  body  of  the  people  is  cor- 
rupt; but  the  continuance  of  democratic  in- 
stitutions, with  whatever  advantages  they 
possess,  requires  not  only  the  preservation 
of  equality,  but  also  the  the  maintenance 
of  a  high  standard  of  public  morals  and 
private  virtue.  To  every  lover  of  the  lib- 
erty of  his  country  therefore,  it  is  of  the 
first  importance  that  all  the  forces  which 
tend  to  enlighten  and  clarify  the  mind 
should  be  upheld  and  magnified.  It  is 
sometimes  affirmed  that  there  is  a  complete 

6 


82  DEMOCRACY  IN  AMERICA. 

separation  of  moral  and  intellectual  culture ; 
but  the  moral  condition  of  those  countries 
where  this  doctrine  is  assumed  and  carried 
out  furnishes  its  sufficient  refutation.  You 
may  make  the  human  being  dependent, 
and  by  superior  authority  force  him  to 
obey  specific  positive  injunctions,  but  by 
that  process  you  may  not  give  him  a  high 
moral  character,  which,  under  conditions  of 
independence,  will  furnish  worthy  guidance 
for  his  life,  and  make  him  a  fit  counsellor 
for  his  fellows.  The  moral  and  intellectual 
life  are  but  different  phases  of  the  manifes- 
tation of  the  human  spirit,  and  in  the  nor- 
mal man  the  higher  moral  life  attends  the 
fuller  development  and  education  of  this 
spirit.  As  a  representative  republic,  rest- 
ing on  democracy,  this  nation  has  not  less 
need  than  other  communities  for  the  eleva- 
tion of  its  moral  status,  and  consequently 
not  less  need  for  the  broadest  and  complet- 
est  education,  an  education  that  will  give 
sanity  of  understanding  and  clearness  of  mo- 
ral discrimination.  Such  an  education  can 
be  attained  only  under  the  directing  care  and 
stimulating  influence  of  a  great  university. 


EDUCATION  AND  DEMOCRACY.  83 

In  the  extension  of  democratic  institutions 
over  the  present  territory  of  the  United 
States,  we  may  see  illustrated  the  influence 
of  rapidly  developing  democracy  on  the  ed- 
ucational system,  and  also  the  influence  of 
popular  education  on  the  conduct  of  demo- 
cratic government.  The  movement  of  civ- 
ilization, from  the  east  to  the  west,  made 
the  West  a  colony  of  the  East.  After 
the  isolated  settlements  of  the  Mississippi 
valley  had  been  founded,  they  suffered  the 
ordinary  fate  of  colonies  ;  they  entered  upon 
a  period  of  social  stagnation.  In  spite  of 
the  growth  of  population  through  the 
attractive  power  of  great  material  resources, 
they  remained,  with  reference  to  many  fea- 
tures of  civilization,  in  a  condition  of  ar- 
rested development.  Speaking  generally, 
when  in  a  colony  the  period  of  stagnation  is 
passed,  when  the  new  commonwealth  has 
taken  possession  of  the  resources  of  the 
country  and  developed  among  the  inhabi- 
tants a  sense  of  common  interests  and  com- 
mon patriotic  aspirations,  the  colony  begins 
to  make  its  positive  contributions  to  the 
advancement  of  civilization.     Unhampered 


84  DEMOCRACY  IN  AMERICA. 

by  venerable  traditions,  not  too  careful  in 
observing  the  accumulated  conventionalities 
of  older  communities,  yet  gathering  what  ap- 
pears worthy  from  their  experience,  it  enters 
upon  the  race  of  progress  with  the  freshness 
and  vigor  of  youth.  Its  course  is  free  from 
antiquated  and  impeding  social  growths,  and 
its  development  is  correspondingly  rapid. 

In  the  West,  after  the  period  of  stagnation, 
society  passed  in  two  decades  over  stages  of 
development  corresponding  essentially  with 
those  covered  in  New  England  in  two  cen- 
turies. In  New  Enojland  an  institution 
needed,  at  any  given  time,  only  small  addi- 
tions of  funds  to  keep  it  abreast  of  a  slowly 
advancing  society.  Gradually,  in  the 
progress  of  time,  it  grew  strong  through 
the  loyal  support  of  generation  after  gen- 
eration of  its  students ;  with  little  risk  of 
being  outrun  by  other  social  institutions,  it 
had  the  good  fortune  to  be  able  to  wait  for 
constituents  to  rise  from  those  who  had 
experienced  its  beneficent  influence.  In 
the  West,  however,  an  institution  of  learn- 
ing could  not  afford  to  wait  for  a  generation 
of  supporters  to  grow  up  from  its  alumni. 


ED  UCA  TION  A  ND  DEMO  CRA  CV.  85 

In  order  to  continue  to  hold  the  same  rela- 
tive position  to  society  which  the  New 
England  college  had  held,  it  had  to  mature 
as  the  society  matured,  to  make  the  growth 
of  two  centuries  in  two  decades. 

Moreover,  while  the  population  of  New 
England  in  the  early  days  was  homogene- 
ous, with  certain  ideas  and  sentiments  and 
purposes  in  common,  that  of  the  West  com- 
prised the  heterogeneous  gleanings  of  the 
four  quarters  of  the  earth.  The  settlers  of 
New  England  were  zealous  in  seeking  to 
realize  ideas  that  concerned  their  spiritual 
well-being ;  the  settlers  of  the  West  were 
zealous  in  seeking  to  realize  ideas  that  con- 
cerned their  material  well-being.  The  ties  of 
blood  and  a  common  religion  bound  the  New 
Englanders  into  a  well-ordered  community ; 
but  in  the  West  the  ties  of  blood  were  in 
large  measure  wanting,  and  religion  had  no 
specially  binding  force.  There  was  little  zeal 
in  common  efforts  that  looked  beyond  the 
personal  gain  of  the  individual  members  of 
the  community.  In  view  of  the  imperative 
need  of  rapid  development,  the  lack  of  public 
interest  in  anything  so  intangible  as  human 


86  DEMOCRACY  IN  AMERICA. 

cultivation,  and  the  failure  of  the  eccle- 
siastical sects  to  co-operate  and  to  furnish 
the  required  support  in  the  undertaking, 
the  organization  for  the  promotion  of  higher 
education  veiy  early  reached  the  point 
where  it  had  to  face  these  alternatives; 
either  to  hold  to  its  primitive  and  inade- 
quate form,  borrovred  from  New^  England, 
or  to  seek  some  other  form  and  some  more 
efficient  means  of  making  the  institutional 
development  keep  pace  with  the  almost 
unprecedented  growth  of  the  society. 

These  alternatives  presented  themselves 
throughout  the  western  part  of  this  country, 
wherever  the  growth  of  population  was  es- 
pecially rapid.  The  movement  of  inhabi- 
tants into  these  regions  from  Europe  and 
the  Atlantic  States  was  a  process  of  colon- 
ization, and  in  the  results  of  the  movement 
we  observe  the  ordinary  effects  of  coloniza- 
tion. Conspicuous  among  these  effects  was 
a  tendency  to  equality  of  condition,  a 
tendency  to  a  social  state  in  which  no  one 
was  held  to  have  extraordinary  or  superior 
obligations  concerning  the  public  weal. 
The  fact  of  equality  suggested  and  justified 


EDUCATION  AND  DEMOCRACY.  87 

the  policy  of  contributions  to  the  higher 
aims  of  society  proportionate  to  the  amounts 
of  individual  property.  This  policy  deter-, 
mined  with  respect  to  education,  was  an 
important  step  towards  the  support  and 
control  of  instruction  by  the  state.  The 
development  of  this  policy,  as  manifest  in 
the  system  of  public  schools  of  all  grades, 
belongs  to  the  time  of  the  most  rapid 
growth  of  population  in  the  West,  and,  in 
some  sense,  has  its  cause  in  the  social  con- 
ditions established  by  the  westward  move- 
ment of  colonization.  Already  in  the  early 
part  of  this  century.  New  England  appeared 
to  have  solved  the  practical  problem  of 
education,  without  relying  on  the  state  as 
a  permanent  fact  or  in  the  support  and  con- 
trol of  the  higher  grades.  But  in  the  West, 
during  the  formative  period  of  its  society, 
there  appeared  no  agency,  except  the  govern- 
ment, which  was  adequate  to  the  under- 
taking, and  at  the  same  time  competent  to 
act  with  sufficient  promptness  to  secure  for 
the  means  of  higher  instruction  their  proper 
place  among  the  institutions  of  the  common- 
wealth.    From  many  points  of  view,  the 


88  DEMOCRACY  IN  AMERICA. 

foundation  and  growth  of  colleges  in  the 
West  have  followed  the  laws  of  colonial  de- 
velopment. These  colleges  have  had  their 
periods  of  arrested  growth,  but  some  have 
acquired  forces  which  make  for  independent 
progress.  Like  vigorous  colonies,  these  in- 
stitutions find  themselves  less  hampered  in 
initiating  reforms  than  their  antecedent  or- 
ganizations. They  have  no  shackling  tradi- 
tions, no  long  and  respectable  history,  with 
which  they  are  morally  bound  to  be  con- 
sistent. The  future  for  them  is  an  open 
field  for  experiments ;  and  out  of  these  ex- 
periments there  will  undoubtedly  come 
important  achievements  in  behalf  of  edu- 
cational advancement. 

In  providing  for  the  co-education  of 
young  men  and  young  women  in  the  high- 
est grades  of  instruction,  the  newer  colleges 
of  this  country  have  moved  independently, 
and  taken  a  position  to  which  they  confi- 
dently expect  the  rest  of  the  world  will 
ultimately  come.  For  the  West  the  general 
policy  of  educating  young  women  with 
young  men  is  no  longer  in  debate.  The 
advocates  of  this  policy  may  not  have  fully 


EDUCATION  AND  DEMOCRACY.  89 

comprehended  all  the  remote  consequences 
of  their  decision,  but  they  seem  to  know 
that  what  they  seek,  namely,  a  broader  in- 
tellectual horizon  for  women  and  a  truer 
view  of  life,  lies  in  this  direction.  The 
difficulty  in  this  matter  is  not  in  establish- 
ing the  principle,  but  in  so  far  breaking  the 
social  traditions  as  to  secure  its  application. 
The  history  of  woman  from  her  oriental 
bondage  to  her  completest  freedom  under 
democracy  is  spanned  by  the  single  expres- 
sion, from  the  harem  to  the  university.  But 
this  transition  has  been  long  and  difficult, 
and  checked  at  every  turn  by  doubts  as  to 
social  proprieties.  In  free  and  cultivated 
Greece,  it  was  not  compatible  with  good 
form  for  a  woman  to  appear  in  a  public 
place,  even  with  her  husband.  In  gratify- 
ing her  ambition  to  be  something  more  than 
an  untaught  child,  she  lost  the  esteem  of 
other  women.  But  this  spirit  did  not  pass 
away  with  the  decline  of  the  ancient  world. 
What  kept  the  Grecian  woman  shut  up  in 
her  house  with  slaves,  keeps  many  of  the 
young  women  of  the  present  from  acquiring 
that  cultivation  which  would  enable  them 


90  DEMOCRACY  IN  AMERICA. 

to  have  an  intelligent  part  in  the  life  of  the 
century  to  which  they  belong.  But  under 
the  influence  of  the  spirit  of  democracy, 
this  tradition  is  passing,  making  the  thought 
and  activity  of  women  a  more  and  more 
important  factor  in  the  conduct  of  society. 
The  spread  of  education,  made  free  and 
public  under  democracy,  removes  the  dan- 
gers arising  from  great  masses  of  the  illiter- 
ate, but  at  the  same  time  it  subjects  the 
state  to  the  equally  important  danger  of 
falling  under  the  control  of  the  half-edu- 
cated.  In  spite  of  the  most  ample  provis- 
ions for  popular  education,  society  under  a 
democratic  organization  is  obliged  to  face 
the  evils  of  bold  and  self-confident  half- 
knowledge,  which  are  not  less  than  those 
proceeding,  under  other  forms  of  rule,  from 
illiteracy  or  malicious  intentions.  That 
the  terrorists  of  the  French  Revolution  were 
saint-like,  except  for  lack  of  knowledge,  is 
hardly  to  be  believed,  yet  it  may  be  affirmed 
that  in  this  and  in  all  other  similar  out- 
breaks, the  dominant  desire  is  not  to  inflict 
injury,  but  to  attain  what  to  the  imperfectly 
instructed  mind  of  the  revolutionist  appears 


EDUCATION  AND  DEMOCRACY.  9 1 

as  a  good.  If  evil  has  followed  such  out- 
breaks, it  is  not  because  it  has  been  the 
ultimate  purpose  of  that  part  of  the  com- 
munity which  has  dominated  and  controlled 
the  action,  but  because,  through  lack  of 
knowledge,  means  have  been  employed 
which  could  not  possibly  lead  to  a  good 
result.  That  the  bulk  of  a  nation  should 
will  and  consciously  pursue  any  other  end 
than  its  own  advantage  is  inconceivable. 
It  is  one  of  the  fundamental  ideas  of  mod- 
ern radicalism  that  every  group  of  human 
beings  naturally  seeks  its  own  happiness, 
or  advantage,  and  that  when  clothed  with 
legislative  power,  it  will  legislate  for  the 
attainment  of  this  happiness,  or  advantage. 
It  is  clear,  however,  that  success  in  this  de- 
sign will  depend  less  on  the  disposition  to 
seek  social  well-being,  than  on  the  ability  to 
discern  and  employ  the  means  by  which  it 
may  be  attained.  However  much,  therefore, 
modern  society  has  to  fear  from  malicious 
intention  and  crass  ignorance,  it  has  a  far 
more  threatening  source  of  danger  in  that 
widely  diffused  half -knowledge  which 
marks  this  age  of  expanding  democracy. 


92  DEMOCRACY  IN  AMERICA. 

The  social  and  political  unrest  which  has 
threatened  to  plunge  Russia  into  anarchy, 
which  is  raising  up  for  the  German  govern- 
ment an  ever  increasing  socialistic  opposi- 
tion, and  which  finds  expression  in  the 
United  States  in  noisy  declamation  against 
grievances  that  are  only  dimly  apprehended, 
is  not  the  product  of  downright  ignorance 
and  brutish  stupidity,  but,  on  the  other 
hand,  is  the  result  of  knowledge  which  is 
sufficient  to  discern  the  existence  of  the 
problem,  but  not  sufficient  to  hinder  the 
advocacy  of  irrational  and  inefficient  means 
for  its  solution.  As  long  as  the  Russian 
serf  remained  in  bondage,  a  mere  clod  of  the 
soil,  with  no  hopes  or  prospects  to  stimulate 
ambition,  he  remained  a  manageable  ele- 
ment of  the  nation.  But  when  his  bonds 
were  broken,  and  he  was  ushered  into  the 
freedom  of  an  independent  citizen,  there 
dawned  on  his  awakening  mind  the  pros- 
pect of  a  condition,  to  even  the  conception 
of  which  he  had  hitherto  not  been  able  to 
attain.  The  new  prospects  roused  his  slug- 
gish intellect,  and  he  was  enabled  to  per- 
ceive the  hindrances  in  the  way  of  realizing 


EDUCATION  AND  DEMOCRACY.  93 

his  hopes.  He  saw  the  existence  of  a  great 
social  problem,  in  the  solution  of  which  his 
own  well-being  was  involved ;  and  in  the 
confidence  which  half-knowledge  inspires, 
he  undertook  the  solution ;  he  undertook 
to  break  down  the  barrier  that  excluded 
him  from  the  promised  land.  From  this 
endeavor  have  come  the  woes  of  Russia. 
Considerably  less  knowledge  on  the  part 
of  the  common  people,  and  Russia  would 
have  remained  undisturbed  in  the  repose 
of  dumb  indifference.  Considerably  more 
knowledge,  and  the  futility  of  Nihilism  as 
a  method  of  reform  would  have  become 
distinctly  apparent. 

The  case  of  Russia  is  in  one  sense  the 
case  of  the  whole  Western  world.  In  Ger- 
many, in  the  United  States,  or  wherever 
the  plan  of  universal  education  prevails, 
there  is,  and  will  always  remain,  a  half-ripe 
element  in  the  population,  an  element 
whose  unblushing  confidence,  born  of  half- 
knowledge,  urges  the  full  exercise  of  the 
vast  power  with  which  it  is  clothed.  This 
is  the  class  at  present  contributing  most 
to   disturb    the    social   order   of    civilized 


94  DEMOCRACY  IN  AMERICA. 

nations.  Its  growth,  activity,  and  vigorous 
pursuit  of  Utopian  ends,  constitute  a  per- 
petual menace  to  peaceful  progress.  Its 
force  is  not  in  the  utterly  ignorant,  but  in 
those  who  see  somewhat  of  the  ills  by 
which  they  are  surrounded,  yet  whose  un- 
trained minds  fall  short  of  grasping  the 
proper  remedy.  The  plan  which  seeks  to 
raise  everybody  to  a  certain  medium  level, 
and  offers  little  or  no  encouragement  to 
rise  above  this  level,  can  have  no  other 
ultimate  outcome  than  to  deliver  the  affairs 
of  civilization,  material  and  spiritual,  into 
the  hands  of  mediocrity. 

Much  of  the  special  agitation  of  the  last 
hundred  years  may  be  set  down  to  the 
credit  of  half-knowledge.  It  is  the  work  of 
reformers  who  undertake  to  solve  intricate 
social  problems,  with  an  understanding  of 
only  a  limited  part  of  the  essential  data. 
The  extreme  socialism  of  to-day  is  a  short- 
sighted effort  to  realize  the  conditions  of 
Utopia,  while  the  essential  qualities  of  men 
remain  unchanged.  It  aims  at  the  simul- 
taneous attainment  of  liberty  and  social 
equality.     Liberty  is  clearly  attainable,  but 


EDUCATION  AND  DEMOCRACY.  95 

as  long  as  men  differently  endowed  enjoy 
it,  there  can  be  no  social  equality.  But 
social  equality  may  be  attained  under  cer- 
tain circumstances ;  yet  the  means  necessary 
to  its  attainment  involve  the  suppression 
of  liberty.  More  knowledge  of  the  princi- 
ples which  underly  the  social  fabric  would 
show  the  advocates  of  social  reform  the 
utter  incompatibility  of  these  aims,  and  the 
consequent  futility  of  all  efforts  in  this  di- 
rection. Through  the  presence  of  leaders 
who  are  without  such  knowledge,  and  who 
have  never  experienced  the  sobering  force 
of  fundamental  instruction  on  any  subject, 
society  is  compelled  periodically  to  undergo 
the  terrors  of  the  socialistic  nightmare. 

This  illustration  presents  only  one  of  a 
long  list  of  evils  that  may  be  ascribed  to 
the  guidance  of  half -knowledge.  But  it 
shows  how  far-reachino;  are  the  conse- 
quences,  going  even  to  the  destruction  of 
the  basis  on  which  alone  it  is  possible  to 
build  free  human  society.  Other  illustra- 
tions might  be  drawn  from  foolish  legisla- 
tion which  debauches  the  public  mind  and 
entails  expensive  consequences;  from  the 


96  DEMOCRACY  IN  AMERICA. 

bungling  of  scientific  quacks,  through 
whose  guidance  property  and  life  are  dis- 
sipated ;  and  from  the  work  of  half-edu- 
cated teachers  and  the  use  of  imperfect 
text-books  which  lead  to  error  and  stupid- 
ity I'ather  than  to  true  knowledge  and 
intellectual  power.  Not  only  do  evils  of 
this  character "  exist,  but  at  the  same  time 
there  are  powerful  forces  operating  to  per- 
petuate the  conditions  out  of  which  they 
spring.  Many  of  the  smaller  colleges  of 
this  country  are  chartered  opponents  of 
true  education.  They  are  established  in 
the  interest  of  personal  pride,  local  preju- 
dice, or  denominational  zeal,  and  whatever 
influence  they  exert  is  in  favor  of  making 
superficial  knowledge  general.  They  con- 
tribute, moreover,  to  make  the  half-knowl- 
edge which  they  encourage  more  noxious 
than  it  otherwise  would  be,  since  they  en- 
dorse it  with  an  academic  degree,  which  is 
the  last  assurance  necessary  to  convince 
the  holder  that  he  has  swept  the  whole 
intellectual  horizon,  and  is  consequently 
fitted  for  the  performance  of  any  task 
within    the    realm   of    intellectual   effort. 


EDUCATION  AND  DEMOCRACY.  97 

Scattered  over  the  laud,  they  enlist  and 
doom  to  inferiority  young  men  who, 
through  the  better  opportunities  of  the 
great  centres  of  thorough  knowledge, 
would  easily  rise  out  of  the  realm  of  medi- 
ocrity, and  become  safe  guides  in  the  affairs 
of  society. 

This  policy  of  encouraging  the  diffusion 
of  half-knowledge  rests  in  part  on  the  false 
notion,  that  if  in  proportion  to  the  popula- 
tion the  United  States  has  fewer  real 
scholars  than  any  other  civilized  nation, 
the  lack  is  more  than  made  up  by  our  large 
number  of  possessors  of  supei-ficial  knowl- 
edge. It  is  true,  in  the  matter  of  physical 
power,  ten  weak  men  may  be  equal  to  five 
strong  men ;  but,  in  the  matter  of  intel- 
lectual power,  ten  weak  men  are  only  equal 
to  one  weak  man.  The  plan  of  co-opera- 
tion by  which  astounding  results  have  been 
produced  in  the  material  world,  fails  utterly 
in  its  application  to  the  intellectual  world. 
Five  hundred  lawyers,  each  of  whom  has 
mastered  only  the  elements  of  his  subject, 
are  no  match  for  him  whose  strong  judg- 
ment is  supported  by  the  vast  knowledge 


98  DEMOCRACY  IN  AMERICA. 

it  is  possible  for  one  to  obtain.  All  the 
poetasters  of  the  ages  are  not  equal  to  one 
Shakespeare. 

The  theory  of  universal  education  in- 
volves the  idea  of  bringing  the  bulk  of  the 
population  to  such  a  degree  of  intellectual 
independence  that  public  opinion  and  pub- 
lic action  will  be  the  result  of  concurrent 
independent  individual  judgments.  This, 
however,  is  a  purely  ideal  end,  that  never 
was  and  never  will  be  reached  in  any  hu- 
man society.  In  the  most  advanced  stage 
of  enlightenment,  as  well  as  in  the  rudest 
condition  of  barbarism,  men  follow  leaders : 
and  not  infrequently,  as  in  the  United 
States,  bewail  the  degeneracy  of  the  times, 
when  there  are  no  great  leaders  to  whom 
they  can  look  with  confidence  for  guidance. 
As  society  becomes  more  complex,  and  its 
practical  problems  more  difficult,  the  need 
of  leaders  of  extraordinary  power  and  at- 
tainments will  become  more  and  more  im- 
perative. But  the  wide  diffusion  of  the 
means  for  spreading  half-knowledge  will 
tend  to  make  mediocre  attainments  the 
ideal,  and  society  will  be  compelled  to  rely 


EDUCATION  AND  DEMOCRACY.  99 

upon  inferior  men  as  leaders,  when  strong 
men  are  demanded.  In  this  it  is  not 
affirmed  that  the  intellectual  pursuits  of  a 
nation  are  manned  solely  from  the  highest 
schools,  still  it  is  the  standard  of  these 
schools  that  sets  the  intellectual  standard 
of  the  nation.  Men  may  and  do  rise  with- 
out the  aid  of  the  schools,  yet  the  schools 
determine  the  extent  to  which  they  must 
push  their  unaided  achievements.  The 
desrradation  of  the  intellectual  standard  of 
a  nation  is  by  no  means  the  least  of  the 
many  evils  resulting  from  that  diffusive 
policy  which  dissipates  the  educational 
funds  and  force,  without  at  any  point  ex- 
tending the  bounds  of  knowledge. 

Still,  because  there  are  serious  evils  aris- 
ing from  that  state  of  half-knowledge  into 
which  men  are  plunged  with  the  first  spnng 
from  ignorance,  it  does  not  follow  that,  for 
the  sake  of  avoiding  these  evils,  we  should 
attempt  to  set  aside  the  forces  that  are  lift- 
ing men  from  barbarism.  Though  there  is 
social  peace  in  the  state  of  Arcadian  ignor- 
ance, we  are  not  able  to  turn  back  and  seek 
it,  and  thus  shun  the  infelicities  of  the  en- 


lOO  DEMOCRACY  IN  AMERICA. 

lightening  process.  The  doom  of  onward 
change  is  upon  us.  Within  each  progres- 
sive nation,  there  is  an  unceasing  move- 
ment from  ignorance  towards  intelligence, 
with  the  inevitable  result,  that  at  any  given 
time,  the  majority  of  the  population  are 
only  midway  in  the  transition.  The  evils 
of  half-knowledge  are,  therefore,  not  sim- 
ply of  this  generation  or  this  century ; 
they  are  an  unavoidable  feature  of  the  life 
of  every  nation  that  seeks  to  rise  from  bar- 
barism to  civilization.  But  they  are  not 
equally  formidable  in  all  nations.  In  a 
nation  which  emphasizes  the  plan  of  mak- 
ing its  education  universal,  and  which  has 
no  ideal  higher  than  mediocrity,  these  infe- 
licities are  without  any  important  antidote. 
They  must  be  met  stoically,  as  part  of  the 
great  sacrifice  entailed  by  the  peculiar  line 
of  progress  which  that  nation  has  chosen. 
There  is  no  escape  by  way  of  a  return  to 
primitive  ignorance,  nor  does  the  plan  itself 
promise  the  desired  salvation.  What  is 
especially  wanted  as  a  remedy  for  this  con- 
dition conspicuously  illustrated  in  the  af- 
fairs of  the  United  States,  is  not  less  in- 


EDUCATION  AND  DEMOCRACY.  lOI 

struction  for  the  great  body  of  the  people, 
but  a  new  ideal  that  shall  be  iu  harmony 
with  the  fundamental  principle  of  a  repre- 
sentative republic.  This  principle  is  that 
all  the  citizens  are  not,  and  cannot  become, 
competent  to  pronounce  an  intelligent  judg- 
ment on  all  the  diversified  details  of  state 
action ;  but  that  they  may  be  safely  relied 
upon  to  point  out  and  elect  the  men  best 
fitted  to  perform  the  business  of  govern- 
ment. The  principle  of  pure  democracy, 
on  the  other  hand,  is  that  every  citizen  may 
be,  and  should  be,  fitted  to  pei'form  the 
functions  of  any  ofiSce  in  the  state.  It  is 
desirable,  therefore,  in  a  pure  democracy, 
that  its  education  should  be  both  uniform 
and  universal.  But  this  nation  is  not,  and 
never  can  be,  a  pure  democracy  ;  hence  no 
such  educational  requirement  is  demanded, 
in  order  to  secure  harmony  in  the  elements 
of  the  state.  A  presupposition  of  repre- 
sentative government  is  that  some  citizens 
are  well-fitted  and  others  ill-fitted  for  the 
conduct  of  public  affairs.  The  univer- 
sal and  uniform  education  demanded  by  a 
democracy  is,  therefore,  not  an  imperative 


102  DEMOCRACY  IN  AMERICA. 

necessity  under  the  representative  system. 
But  it  is  demanded  under  this  system  that 
there  shall  be  men  of  extraordinary  learning 
and  wisdom,  who,  as  leaders  in  the  common- 
wealth, shall  be  worthy  of  confidence.  Thus, 
in  so  far  as  our  plan  of  universal  education 
draws  attention  and  support  away  from, 
and  prevents  the  development  of,  means 
for  the  highest  instruction,  degrading  the 
intellectual  standard  and  leaving  us  to  the 
guidance  of  the  blind,  in  so  far  it  is  in  con- 
flict with  the  fundamental  idea  on  which 
every  complex  society  is  organized.  The 
preliminary  educational  need  of  this  great 
representative  republic,  as  it  appears  from 
this  point  of  view,  is  not  the  further  mul- 
tiplication of  institutions  for  superficial  in- 
struction, but  the  establishment  of  a  new 
and  higher  ideal  of  intellectual  life,  which 
shall  silence  and  put  to  shame  the  noisy 
pretensions  of  half-knowledge,  and,  through 
the  realization  of  this  ideal  in  higher  wis- 
dom, relieve  the  nation  from  the  dangers 
of  uninstructed  counsel. 


LECTURE  IV. 

PRESERVATION    OF    THE    DEMOOEATIO     SPIRIT. 

ALTHOUGH  the  forms  of  our  society 
may  change  in  the  course  of  our  so- 
cial growth,  yet  at  the  same  time  we  feel 
the  Tightness  of  our  instinct  to  preserve 
the  democratic  life.  We  know  that  in  a 
community  growing  from  simplicity  to 
complexity,  equality  tends  to  disappear, 
and  with  equality  also  the  conditions 
favorable  to  democratic  rule.  Yet  as  a 
nation  we  stand  committed  to  a  repre- 
sentative republic  based  on  democracy. 
For  us  there  is  no  alternative  but  an  oli- 
garchy or  a  military  dictatorship,  and  to 
neither  of  these  can  we  look  with  any  de- 
gree of  hope.  A  throne  upheld  by  great 
achievements  and  the  traditions  of  glorious 
centuries  is  impossible  on  this  continent. 
We  are. compelled,  therefore,  to  stand  for 
103 


I04  DEMOCRACY  IN  AMERICA. 

what  we  have,  for  the  fundamental  ideas 
and  institutions  under  which  we  live,  and 
to  attempt  to  counteract  those  social  forces 
that  tend  to  make  them  impossible.  We 
stand  for  these  institutions,  although  we 
recognize  that  their  establishment  was  in 
some  sense  an  experiment.  In  fact,  we 
recognize  the  establishment  of  every  gov- 
ernment as  an  experiment.  Moreover,  the 
whole  governmental  history  of  the  world 
is  only  one  long  series  of  more  or  less  suc- 
cessful attempts  to  find  some  means  for 
wisely  organizing  and  controlling  men  in 
communities  and  nations.  It  is  true,  the 
individual  men  who  lay  the  plans  and  set 
in  operation  the  forces  of  the  experiment 
seldom  live  to  see  the  outcome ;  but  the 
nation  or  the  race  stands  by  and  waits 
calmly  for  the  result.  And  all  this  must 
be  because  no  two  governmental  problems, 
either  in  the  same  age  or  in  different  ages, 
involve  the  same  factors,  and  therefore  the 
history  of  the  past  furnishes  only  hints, 
but  no  solutions,  for  the  future.  In  making 
the  experiment,  the  government  must  be 
framed  on  the  basis  of  the  circumstances 


THE  DEMOCRATIC  SPIRIT.  105 

and  conditions  which  we  know  from  an  ob- 
servation of  the  present ;  but  it  goes  into 
force  to  apply  to  circumstances  and  condi- 
tions which  we  cannot  know,  because  they 
are  in  the  undeveloped  future. 

After  only  one  hundred  years  it  may  be 
too  early  to  pronounce  on  the  success  or 
failure  of  this  experiment.  When  the  Ro- 
man empire  had  lasted  an  hundred  years, 
it  was  still  in  its  infancy.  The  close  of  the 
second  century  saw  it  in  increased  renown 
and  undiminished  vigor.  As  it  passed  the 
end  of  the  third  century,  it  was  guided  by 
one  whose  acts  reveal  the  true  prophetic 
insight  of  a  statesman.  And  not  until  af- 
ter four  hundred  years  was  its  existence 
seriously  threatened  by  external  shock. 
To  have  said  during  the  first  three  hundred 
years  of  its  existence  that  the  Roman  em- 
pire was  a  failure,  as  some  have  said  of 
this  American  republic  in  its  first  hundred 
years,  or  to  have  said  that  it  was  estab- 
lished to  last  forever,  as  our  patriotism 
prompts  us  to  say  of  our  government, 
would  clearly  have  been  a  false  judgment. 
The  Roman  empire  may  not  have  had  all 


\ 


Io6  DEMOCRACY  IN  AMERICA. 

the  qualities  of  our  ideal  of  a  wise  and 
efficient  government,  but  at  the  same  time, 
in  the  second  or  third  century,  it  had  by 
no  means  failed.  Still  it  was  not  immortal, 
and  finally  passed  aw^ay  with  the  develop- 
ment of  Christian  society. 

In  view  of  the  Empire's  long  unrivalled 
dominion  and  final  extinction,  in  view  of 
the  perishableness  of  all  human  institu- 
tions, which  is  emphasized  on  every  page  of 
history,  it  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  as  a 
nation  we  have  reached  a  point  in  the  de- 
velopment of  social  and  political  forms 
beyond  which  we  shall  not  advance ;  to 
suppose  this  is  to  presume  that  the  active 
practical  intelligence  which  this  nation  has 
displayed  for  an  hundred  years  will  sud- 
denly become  paralyzed,  and  social  stagna- 
tion settle  over  the  land.  As  long  as  the 
nation  moves  with  the  current  of  progress, 
our  institutions  will  continue  to  change  to 
meet  the  demands  of  the  developing  spirit. 

If,  then,  the  establishment  of  our  gov- 
ernment is  one  of  a  long  line  of  experiments 
which  the  race  has  made,  why  celebrate 
its  beginnings  or  take  delight  in  its  con- 


THE  DEMOCRATIC  SPIRIT.  10/ 

tinuance  ?  The  reason  lies  not  in  the  wish 
that  the  form  may  remain  unchanged,  for 
the  necessary  condition  of  such  a  result  is 
a  state  of  society  entirely  repugnant  to  our 
strongest  social  instinct — the  instinct  of 
progress.  We  regard  with  patriotic  pride 
the  beginnings  of  our  government,  not  be- 
cause we  believe  its  institutions  destined  to 
perpetual  survival,  but  because  we  hold 
that  its  establishment  represents  a  step  for- 
ward, and  because  it  has  emphatically  an- 
nounced certain  principles  which  we 
believe  will  abide,  however  the  forms  may 
change.  As  long  as  the  nation  moves  for- 
w^ard  in  the  line  of  true  progress,  we  may 
look  with  gratification  to  the  necessary 
changes  in  the  form  of  the  state.  There  is* 
reason  for  anxiety  only  in  the  indications 
of  a  return  to  rejected  principles  and  anti- 
quated conditions. 

Some  phases  of  an  important  movement 
are  seen  in  our  wide  departure  from  simple 
living,  and  in  the  prodigious  attempts  that 
are  making:  throus^hout  the  Union  to  draw 
strong  lines  of  class  separation.  Fifty  years 
ago   the    general   equality    of    conditions 


I08  DEMOCRACY  IN  AMERICA. 

among  the  people  appeared  to  De  Tocqiie- 
ville  as  the  fundamental  fact  and  central 
point  of  American  life.  But  to-day  we  are 
conspicuous  among  the  nations  for  our  lack 
of  simplicity  of  living,  and  for  our  wide 
variations  of  conditions.  This  lack  of  sim- 
plicity arises  from  the  desire  for  social  dis- 
tinction taken  with  the  fact  that  as  a 
nation  we  especially  emphasize  wealth  as 
the  measure  of  the  distinction  to  be  ac- 
corded. The  ambitious  German  or  Eng- 
lishman dares  to  live  simply,  because  his 
society  lays  stress  on  other  criteria  of  dis- 
tinction than  the  display  of  wealth.  In 
some  countries  intellectual  cultivation  and 
achievement  balance  nobility  in  giving  so- 
cial distinction,  but  in  the  great  society  of 
America  there  is  little  to  balance  the  pos- 
session of  wealth.  There  is,  therefore,  a 
powerful  stimulus  to  action  in  only  one 
direction.  The  highest,  the  non-commer- 
cial pursuits,  consequently  appear  unattrac- 
tive, and  comparative  neglect  attends  these 
phases  of  life  on  which  alone  rests  a  na- 
tion's glory. 

Yet  one    may  easily  underestimate  the 


THE  DEMOCRATIC  SPIRIT.  IO9 

beneficent  influence  of  wealth  even  on  the 
higher  phases  of  national  progress.  To 
avoid  this  liability,  one  may  recall  the  fact 
that  the  glorious  period  of  art  and  learning 
among  the  Dutch  followed  their  commer- 
cial supremacy  in  Europe,  and  that  the  un- 
rivalled brilliancy  of  Grecian  civilization 
in  the  age  of  Pericles  followed  a  period  of 
remarkable  commercial  and  industrial  activ- 
ity. But  in  both  of  these  nations  personal 
living  retained  much  of  its  primitive  sim- 
plicity. In  the  conspicuous  qualities  of 
American  life,  however,  there  is  no  evi- 
dence that  the  civilization  of  either  Hol- 
land or  Greece  is  our  model ;  rather  that 
we  are  returnino^  to  the  social  condition  of 
the  Roman  empire,  in  which  vast  accumu- 
lations of  wealth  were  used  to  promote  rival- 
ries in  the  magnificence  of  personal  luxury. 
The  political  significance  of  these  changes 
in  the  structure  of  American  society  has 
already  been  made  apparent  in  pointing  to 
the  fact  that  certain  forms  of  government 
grow  naturally,  as  a  plant  out  of  its  proper 
soil,  from  certain  appropriate  forms  of 
society. 


1 1 0  DEMO  CRA  CY  IN  A  M ERICA . 

Among  the  forces  which  lead  away  from 
democracy,  and  against  which  all  champions 
of  democracy  are  obliged  to  contend,  are 
those  which  arise  from  the  spirit  of  war ;  for, 
however  persistently  the  Utojjists  and  sen- 
timentalists may  affirm  that  the  day  of  uni- 
versal peace  is  about  to  dawn,  the  solemn 
fact  remains  that  military  ambition  and  the 
war  spirit  are  as  vigorous  to-day  as  ever. 
For  the  monarchical  governments  of  Eu- 
rope, the  military  spirit  and  the  military 
habit  are  sources  of  strength.  They  make 
the  people  accustomed  to  absolute  author- 
ity, and  prevent  the  administration  from 
becoming  weakened  by  decentralization. 
The  military  organization  is  the  monarchi- 
cal organization,  and  the  monarch  is  the 
military  head  of  the  nation.  The  military 
spirit  confirms  the  ruler  in  his  position, 
and  gives  vigor  and  compactness  of  organi- 
zation to  his  kingdom.  But  the  army  of  a 
republic  is  not  essentially  different"  in  its 
constitution  and  methods  and  influence 
from  the  army  of  a  monarchy.  If,  there- 
fore, it  is  maintained  in  strength  and  em- 
ployed  in  frequent  wars,  it  will  tend  to 


THE  DEMOCRATIC  SPIRIT.  Ill 

develop  in  a  republic  the  monarchical  spirit 
and  a  monarchical  form  of  rule.  Our 
policy  is  thus  a  policy  of  peace;  for  the 
hope  of  staying  the  monarchical  or  oli- 
garchical tendency  in  a  republic  hangs  on 
the  possibility  of  finding  some  other  means 
for  settling  controversies  than  an  appeal  to 
arms.  It  is  for  this  reason  that  the  people 
of  the  United  States  are  interested  in  the 
plan  of  international  arbitration  ;  and  for 
the  same  reason  every  association  of  per- 
sons seeking  the  preservation  of  American 
democracy  must  have  as  one  of  its  practi- 
cal purposes  the  advocacy  of  peace. 

It  is  not,  however,  that  war  in  all  its 
forms  is  to  be  repudiated.  When  it  comes 
to  resist  foreign  encroachment,  to  defend 
the  rights  of  our  citizens  abroad,  or  to  pre- 
serve the  integrity  of  the  nation,  even 
though  it  come  with  all  its  attendant  mis- 
ery and  sacrifice,  it  may  bring  incidental 
blessings.  It  may  strengthen  the  bonds  of 
national  unity ;  it  may  deepen  the  senti- 
ment of  patriotism ;  it  may  give  to  the 
pulse  of  every  citizen  a  firmer  and  truer 
and  steadier  beat.     National  independence 


112  DEMOCRACY  IN  AMERICA. 

and  national  honor  we  hold  not  dear,  even 
if  they  must  be  purchased  and  maintained 
at  the  cost  of  human  life.  Moreover,  in 
war  our  sense  of  social  duty  is  magnified, 
and  we  become  willing  even  to  give  our 
lives  to  insure  the  welfare  of  the  nation. 
But  war  may  not  be  employed  with  design 
in  a  republic  based  on  democracy  as  a 
means  of  awakening  a  sense  of  social  duty; 
for  the  good  which  may  attend  it  is  only 
incidental,  while  the  evils  are  far-reaching 
and  fundamental. 

Another  force  tending  to  the  dissolution 
of  the  democratic  community  is  the  strong 
advocacy  of  individual  rights,  which  marks 
society  under  republican  liberty.  While 
the  oppressive  hand  of  their  superiors 
rested  on  the  common  people  of  the  several 
civilized  nations,  they  sought  relief,  and 
demanded  the  satisfaction  of  their  desires 
under  the  guise  of  a  recognition  of  rights. 
But  the  identification  of  desires  and  rights, 
followed  by  a  strong  and  unwavering  in- 
sistence on  their  realization,  tends  to  de- 
stroy the  bonds  which  hold  society  together, 
places  the  individual  in  antagonism  to  his 


THE  DEMOCRATIC  SPIRIT.  II3 

fellows,  and  brings  about  that  condition  of 
affairs  where  each  is  for  himself  and  none  is 
for  the  state.  It  is  a  drift  towards  this 
state  of  things  that  has  conspicuously 
marked  the  movement  of  societ}'^  during 
the  last  two  hundred  j^ears,  or  even  since 
the  rise  of  the  individualism  of  the  Protes- 
tant Revolution.  And  as  a  consequence 
of  the  2;eneral  strivinsr  to  realize  individual 
rights,  we  behold  the  diversity  and  antago- 
nisms of  modern  life,  and  private  judgment, 
in  both  religious  and  political  affairs,  unre- 
strained by  authority,  running  into  the  wild- 
est vagaries  of  individual  opinion.  From 
this  chaos  of  individualism,  which  manifests 
itself  in  the  assertion  of  rights,  the  republic 
has  need  to  be  redeemed,  and  the  redemp- 
tion may  come  only  through  a  revival  of 
the  sense  of  social  duty. 

In  political  as  well  as  in  religious  affairs 
there  is  need  of  revival.  The  history  of 
every  successful  system  of  religion  shows 
either  a  continuous  effort,  or  occasional  ex- 
traordinary efforts,  to  maintain  in  influence, 
or  restore  to  effective  power,  the  pnnciples 
of  the  founders.      Frequent  recurrence  to 


114  DEMOCRACY  IN  AMERICA. 

the  simple  doctrines  and  zealous  lives  of 
the  early  Mohammedans  has  kept  Moham- 
medanism a  force  in  the  world.  The 
strong  traditions  of  the  Hebrews,  binding 
the  later  generations  to  the  principles  and 
lives  of  the  early  heroes,  have  preserved 
that  people  true  to  itself,  and  given  it  a 
consistent  development  through  centuries 
of  trial.  Christianity  might  have  drifted 
into  lifeless  formalism,  but  that  ever  and 
anon  the  Christian  world  has  been  aroused 
to  lift  its  eyes  from  the  material  interests 
of  the  day,  and  contemplate  the  sublime 
spiritualism  of  the  early  Christian  teachers. 
What  has  been  found  needful  to  keep  a 
religious  community  in  healthful  life,  is 
equally  needful  for  the  broader  life  of  a 
political  community.  If  the  nation  would 
be  true  to  itself  throughout  its  changes  of 
governmental  forms,  growth  must  continue 
on  the  basis  of  its  essential  and  fundamen- 
tal ideas.  Like  a  religious  system,  it  must 
seek  to  keep  its  primitive  principles  con- 
spicuous, and  if  at  any  time  they  are  lost 
to  sight,  the  nation  must  be  awakened  by 
the  preaching  of  a  revival.      The  world 


THE  DEMOCRATIC  SPIRIT.  II5 

grown  indifferent  to  primitive  Christianity 
was  awakened  by  the  preaching  of  Saint 
Bernard,  which  was  echoed  from  hill-top  to 
valley  and  from  valley  to  hill-top  through- 
out Southern  Europe.  Again,  absorbed  in 
the  delights  of  ancient  learning  and  the 
external  glories  of  artistic  creations,  there 
was  needed  the  sublime  faith  and  heroic 
devotion  of  Luther  and  Loyola  to  recall 
primitive  Christian  teachings  to  the  hearts 
and  minds  of  a  worldly  generation.  Po- 
litically we  have  fallen  on  barren  times 
like  these.  Our  generation  is  either  indif- 
ferent to  the  political  doctrines  which  un- 
derlie our  social  organism  as  formed  by 
the  founders  of  this  republic,  or  it  is  ab- 
sorbed in  the  wonders  of  our  own  physical 
creations.  We  have  need  of  a  political  re- 
vival, a  revival  of  democratic  simplicity, 
and  an  awakening  of  genuine  patriotism. 

Not  only  does  this  American  generation 
need  to  be  recalled  to  the  simplicity  of  the 
fathers,  but  also  to  their  more  complete 
conception  of  life.  The  youth  of  the  pres- 
ent are  moved  to  criticise  every  plan  of 
education  or  pursuit  in  life  with  reference 


Il6  DEMOCRACY  IN  AMERICA. 

to  its  power  to  contribute  material  advan- 
tages, without  regard  to  the  nature  of  the 
character  that  will  result.  Moreover,  many 
persons  instead  of  viewing  the  state  as 
a  beneficent  organization  whose  effective 
existence  is  secured  only  by  the  devotion 
of  citizens,  regard  it  as  something  to  be 
plundered  for  immediate,  individual  profit. 
Wherever  we  direct  our  view,  we  discern 
the  imperative  need  of  a  reviving  voice 
that  shall  awaken  the  nation  to  look  once 
more  on  its  ancient  and  lofty  ideals;  and 
in  the  attainment  of  this  end  the  conserv- 
ing forces  of  religion  are  of  great  impor- 
tance. 

Under  democratic  rule,  as  well  as  under 
other  forms  of  government,  social  growth 
is  dependent  in  a  large  measure  upon  re- 
ligion. Yet  it  is  not  the  the  function  of 
religion  to  initiate  new  features  of  organiza^ 
tion,  or  to  urge  important  social  changes ; 
it  the  rather  represents  the  principle  of 
conservatism;  it  stands  for  the  forces  of 
instinct  and  tradition,  and  not  for  the  forces 
of  intelligence.  Under  the  domination  of 
freely  acting  intelligence,  man  appears  as  a 


THE  DEMOCRATIC  SPIRIT.  11/ 

radical,  and  seeks  better  conditions  through 
changes  which  he  consciously  proposes. 
Under  the  domination  of  the  religious  in- 
stinct, he  appears  as  a  conservative,  and 
holds  to  principles  and  forces  which  he 
conceives  to  be  a  part  of  an  everlasting  or- 
der. Pure  intelligence  in  social  progress 
is  revolutionary :  in  the  creation  and  pur- 
suit of  its  ideals  it  is  self-sufficient  and 
neglectful  of  tradition.  The  religious  in- 
stinct, on  the  other  hand,  adores  that  which 
was  from  the  beginning,  and,  in  its  influence 
on  progress,  tends  to  bind  the  present  to 
the  past,  and  allow  the  forces  of  the  past 
to  help  determine  the  affairs  of  the  present. 
And  through  its  conservative  force  it  helps 
to  make  effective  the  social  ideals  of  the 
past. 

Because  religion  is  conservative,  it  is 
sometimes  claimed  that  it  hinders  rather 
than  helps  the  onward  movement,  that  it 
chains  the  wheel  of  progress.  Take  an  il- 
lustration from  two  drivers  on  one  of  our 
long,  steep  mountain  roads.  The  one 
chains  a  wheel  of  his  wagon,  and  is  thus 
enabled    to   carry   his   load   steadily   and 


Il8  DEMOCRACY  IN  AMERICA. 

safely  along  the  narrow  decline  to  its  des- 
tination. The  other  will  have  nothing  of 
such  hindrances,  and,  with  all  wheels  free, 
enters  upon  what  he  regards  as  his  career 
of  rapid  and  uninterrupted  progress.  But 
soon  his  load  is  beyond  control,  the  leaders 
are  in  wild  flight,  and,  at  a  dangerous 
turn,  horses,  driver,  and  all  they  carry,  are 
plunged  over  the  precipice  in  one  promis- 
cuous ruin.  If  the  American  people,  with 
all  the  momentum  of  the  ages,  have  thus 
far  been  able  to  keep  to  the  road  of  genu- 
ine progress,  and  have  at  different  times 
safely  rounded  the  sharp  curve  which 
looks  into  the  abyss  of  national  dishonor, 
it  is  because  there  exists  in  us  still  some 
inheritance  of  the  thincjs  our  fathers  lived 
for,  some  unconscious  memory,  it  may  be, 
of  the  principles  which  their  religious  con- 
sciousness approved. 

The  efficacy  of  religion  in  relation  to  so- 
cial evolution  is,  furthermore,  illustrated 
by  its  power  in  strengthening  the  sense  of 
duty.  As  already  suggested,  this  sense  is 
weakened  in  proportion  as  emphasis  is  laid 
on  individual  rights.     Since  the  loud  proc- 


THE  DEMOCRATIC  SPIRIT.  1 19 

lamation  of  the  rights  of  man  in  the  last 
century,  the  doctrine  there  involved  has 
operated  on  society  as  a  disintegrating 
force.  It  has  tended  to  make  the  individ- 
ual man  forgetful  of  everything  but  his 
claims.  It  has  encourao^ed  his  natural  sel- 
iishness,  and  made  his  relation  to  organized 
society  conspicuously  a  relation  of  personal 
material  profit.  In  itself,  it  points  only  to 
anti-social  consequences.  In  order,  there- 
fore, that  through  its  influence  the  devel- 
opment of  society  may  not  be  prevented, 
or  the  bonds  of  social  intercourse  be  dis- 
solved, the  recognition  of  rights  must  be 
supplemented  by  the  recognition  of  duties. 
It  is  only  with  the  recognition  of  duties 
that  social  evolution  begins ;  and,  in  the 
whole  course  of  social  growth,  no  agency 
has  been  more  powerful  than  religion  in 
enforcing  and  keeping  alive  the  sense  of 
duty,  and  thus  implanting  in  men  the 
qualities  under  which  society  proceeds  by 
evolution  to  a  higher  standard. 

It  may  not  be  maintained  that  religion 
helps  directly  to  build  means  of  communi- 
cation, to  establish  and  operate  factories,  or 


120  DEMOCRACY  IN  AMERICA. 

in  any  other  way  to  bring  the  forces  of 
nature  into  subjection  to  man.  But  doing 
these  things  is  only  one  phase  of  progress. 
In  the  course  of  national  evolution,  there 
are  ages  of  action  and  ages  of  ideas ;  and 
the  achievements  of  both  are  essential  to 
true  social  development.  Neither  the 
heroic  undertaking  of  the  Athenians 
against  the  Persians,  nor  the  events  of  the 
period  of  material  prosperity  which  fol- 
lowed, give  us  a  full  view  of  Athenian 
civilization.  The  development  was  not 
complete  till  the. spirit  of  the  nation  had 
unfolded  itself  in  the  creation  of  religious 
and  artistic  ideals,  and  realized  through 
these  the  higher  naanifestations  of  social 
existence.  What  is  true  of  the  Athenians 
is  true  of  every  nation.  However  great  its 
power  and  economic  achievements,  its  evo- 
lution is  incomplete  till  it  has  acquired 
clear  religious  ideals  that  have  found  ex- 
pression in  life.  And  it  is  to  religion, 
moreover,  that  society  must  look  for  the 
transmission  of  its  highest  conceptions 
from  generation  to  generation.  What  re- 
ligion teaches  about  God  and  moral  con- 


THE  DEMOCRATIC  SPIRIT.  121 

duct  has  taken  form  througli  human 
thought ;  and  this  doctrine,  gathered  into 
one  body  and  accepted  as  part  of  a  system 
of  religion,  goes  everywhere,  bearing  the 
stamp  of  divine  authority.  And  through- 
out the  ages  the  religious  system  is  des- 
tined to  be  the  means  through  which  the 
highest  thoughts  of  the  race  concerning 
human  life  are  preserved  and  made  a 
portion  of  our  common  inheritance.  It 
maintains  the  continuity  of  our  highest 
conceptions,  and  carries  them  on,  with  all 
their  uplifting  force,  from  age  to  age  and 
from  nation  to  nation. 

But  there  is  a  still  more  important  ser- 
vice which  religion  renders  to  social  evo- 
lution. By  emphasizing  the  spiritual  as 
contrasted  with  the  physical  side  of  man's 
being,  a  basis  has  been  laid  for  a  new  and 
higher  estimate  of  the  worth  of  human  life ; 
and  this  new  conception  of  the  dignity  and 
worth  of  man  has  given  rise  to  many  of  the 
characteristic  qualities  of  the  world's  ripest 
civilization.  It  underlies  the  movement  in 
behalf  of  universal  education.  It  has  called 
into  existence  the  whole  scheme  of  modern 


122  DEMOCRACY  IN  AMERICA. 

charity,  from  the  care  and  training  of  waifs 
to  the  efforts  to  protect  and  redeem  the 
idiotic  and  the  insane.  It  has  tended  to 
deprive  the  penalties  of  the  law  of  their 
former  barbarity,  without  diminishing  their 
efficiency  in  defending  the  peaceful  and  the 
virtuous.  In  a  word,  it  has  given  to  the 
civilization  of  this  age  a  rank  not  attained 
by  that  of  any  other  age,  although  other 
ages  may  have  transcended  us  in  the  excel- 
lence of  their  literature  and  the  perfection 
of  their  art. 

The  social  problems  which  a  nation  in  any 
generation  has  to  face  cannot  be  solved  by  the 
pure  intelligence  of  that  nation  as  manifest 
in  that  generation.  The  knowledge  of  the 
bulk  of  any  community  is  only  half-knowl- 
edge, and  is  inadequate  to  social  control. 
France,  in  the  Revolution,  cut  loose  from 
religion,  rejected  her  national  tradition,  and 
relied  on  the  immediate  intelligence  of  her 
people.  The  outcome  was  a  fiasco ;  and 
after  the  Revolution  had  dealt  its  first  blow 
at  the  past,  there  was  no  hope  of  progress 
for  the  nation  till  tradition,  with  its  halo  of 
religion,  had  been  rehabilitated.     The  tern- 


THE  DEMOCRATIC  SPIRIT.  \2% 

porary  failure  here  observed  was  sucli  a 
failure  as  is  bound  to  appear  whenever  re- 
form proceeds  solely  ou  the  conclusions  of 
intelligence.  We  are  not  determined  in. 
the  larger  part  of  our  action  or  non-action 
by  the  investigations  and  decisions  of  our 
intelligence,  but  by  tradition  which  operates 
through  our  instincts,  and  brings  already 
formed  a  solution  for  most  of  the  cases  on 
which  we  are  called  to  act.  If  we  work 
not  all  the  evil  we  might  do,  it  is  not  be- 
cause our  intelligences  sit  in  judgment  on 
every  proposed  act,  but  because  we  are 
moved  in  our  conduct  by  tradition,  by  an 
inheritance  of  impulses  which  are  able  to 
make  themselves  effective  in  our  lives  by 
the  fact  that  they  were  involved  in  the  re- 
ligion of  our  ancestors.  It  is  this  sanctified 
inheritance  which  maintains  society,  in  its 
evolution,  true  to  itself,  and  enables  it  to 
preserve  what  is  best  in  its  experience  and 
the  nobler  features  of  its  ancient  ideals.  It 
is  this  which  enables  a  nation  to  carry  itself 
steadily  forward,  in  spite  of  the  vagaries  of 
immature  thought  and  the  aberrations  of 
temporary  passion. 


INDEX. 

Administrative  power,  77 
Agitation,  36,  53,  92,  94 
America  occupied  by  Europeans,  i 
Aristocratic  spirit,  79 
Authority  and  discipline,  72 

Capital,  private,  71 

Change,  from  individual  to  corporate  industry,  51  ; 

in  institutions,  31,  io6,  107 
Christianity,  114 
Cities,  25,  34 

Class,  conflicts,  58,  60  ;  separation,  107 
Co-education,  88 
Colleges,  smaller,  96 
Colonial  life,  2 
Colonies,  growth  of,  83,  88 
Combinations  of  laborers,  56 
Conflict,  2>^,  54,  56 
Conventionalities,  i 
Co-operation,  63,  66,  73-76,  97 
Corporations,  41-51 

Defectives,  74,  76 

125 


1 26  INDEX. 

Democracy,  9  ;  in  America,  11-13, 17  ;  disappears, 
24,  27  ;  prospects  of,  19  ;  in  Europe,  29,  30, 
78,  79,  83,  101 

Dependence  increasing,  26 

De  Tocqueviile,  108 

Discipline,  72 

Distinction,  social,  72 

Division  of  employments,  73 

Dutch  art  and  learning,  109 

Duty,  113 

Education,  78,  90,  98,  loi 
Egypt,  laborer  in,  37 
Emancipation  of  Spanish  America,  15 
Employments,  division  of,  61,  66 
Encomiendas,  16 
English  in  colonizing,  5,  13,  j6 
Equality,  2,  20-22,  71,  76,  79,  107 
European,  occupation  of  America,  i  ;  tendency  as 
to  democracy,  29 

France  as  a  republic,  17 
Free  instruction,  80 
French  Revolution,  58,  98 
Frontier,  24 
Fundamental  tendency,  78 

Government,  an   experiment,    104  ;  complex,    65  ; 

primitive,  64  ;  support  of  schools,  87 
Grecian  women,  89 


INDEX,  127 


Half-knowledge,  91-102 
Happiness  the  popular  aim,  91 
Hebrews,  114 

Immortality,  national,  8 
Inequality,  11,  16,  20-22,  29,  78,  79 
Intelligence  in  progress,  117,  123 

Jack  Cade,  58 

Leaders,  98 

Mediocrity,  94 
Mexico,  32,  37 
Migration,  4 
Military  affairs,  34 
Mississippi  valley,  83 
Mohammedans,  114 
Monarchy,  81 
Montesquieu,  10 
Morals  and  education,  82 

New  England  and  the  West,  84 
Nihilism,  93 

Officers,  Spanish,  in  America,  15 
Official  life,  72 
Organization  modified,  10 

Pericles,  109 
Political  authority,  4 
Progress,  4,  24,  38,  39 


128  INDEX. 

Protestant  revolution,  113 

Providence,  3 

Public  instruction,  79,  80 

Race-respect,  7 

Railroads  under  socialism,  70 

Religion  in  progress,  116-123 

Revival,  114 

Revolutionary  period,  18 

Rights,  112,  119 

Roman  Empire,  33,  59,  105,  106 

Rosas,  32 

Rural  life,  25,  27 

Schools,  public,  79 

Simplicity  of  living,  108 

Socialism,  36,  61,  68-70,  74,  77,  94 

Social  order,  new,  76 

Society  in  American  colonies  and  Europe,  30 

Spain  and  corporations,  43 

Spaniards  in  colonizing,  5,  14 

Specialization  of  work,  dz,  64 

State,  as  an  instrument,  3  ;  formation  of,  3 

Struggle  for  life,  76 

Suffrage,  universal,  70 

Superiority  and  dependence,  39,  55 

Switzerland,  10,  14  ;  canton  of,  64 

Tendency,  fundamental,  i 
Trades,  separation  of,  71 
Trusts,  45-5 1 


INDEX.  129 

Unit  in  society,  64 

University  instruction  under  democracy,  80 

Unrest,  social  and  political,  92 

Wages  in  America,  36 

War,  relation  to  monarchy  and  democracy,  no 

Wat  Tyler,  58 

Wealth,  109 

West  a  colony  of  the  East,  83 

Woman's  progress,  89 


Sociology. 


Social  Facts  and  Forces. 

The  Factory — The  Labor  Union — The  Corporation — 
The  Railway — The  City — The  Church.  By  Wash- 
ington Gladden,  author  of  "  Applied  Christianity," 
"  Tools  and  the  Man,"  etc.     12°,  $1.25. 

"  The  book  is  full  of  invigorating  thought,  and  is  to  be  recommended  to  every 
one  who  feels  the  growing  importance  of  public  duties." — The  Outlook. 

Nullification  and  Secession  in  the 
United  States. 

A  History  of  the  Six  Attempts  in  the  First  Century  of 
the  Republic.     By  Edward  P.  Powell,  D.D.     12°, 

$2.00. 

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quence of  arguments  natural.  The  whole  work  shows  scholarly  investigation, 
and  impartial  judgment." — The  School  "Journal. 

The  Sphere  of  the  State, 

or.  The  People  as  a  Body  Politic.  By  Frank  S.  Hoff- 
man, A.M.,  Professor  of  Philosophy,  Union  College. 
Second  edition.     12°,  $1.50. 

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the  student  with  a  capital  text-book  and  the  general  reader,  who  is  interested  in 
political  science,  with  much  that  is  suggestive,  much  that  is  worthy  of  his  careful 
attention." 

Anarchism. 

A  Criticism  and  History  of  the  Anarchist  Theory.  By 
E.  V.  Zenker.     12°,  $1.50. 

"  The  fullest  and  best  account  of  anarchism  ever  published.  ...  A  most 
powerful  and  trenchant  criticism." — London  Book  Gazette. 


Q.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS,  New  York  &  London. 


Economics. 

Hadley's   Economics. 

An  Account  of  the  Relations  between  Private  Property 
and  Public  Welfare.  By  Arthur  Twining  Had- 
LEY,  Professor  of  Political  Economy,  in  Yale  Uni- 
versity.    8°,  $2.50  net. 

The  work  is  now  used  in  classes  in  Yale,  Princeton,  Harvard,  Amherst,  Dart- 
mouth, Bowdoin,  Vanderbilt,  Bucknell,  Bates,  Leland  Stanford,  University  of 
Oregon,  University  of  California,  etc. 

"  The  author  has  done  his  work  splendidly.  He  is  clear,  precise,  and 
thorough.  .  .  .  No  other  book  has  given  an  equally  compact  and  intelligent 
interpretation." — Atnerican  Journal  of  Sociology. 

The  Bargain  Theory  of  Wages. 

By  John  Davidson,  M  A.,  D  Phil.  (Edin.),  Professor  of 
Political  Economy  in  the  University  of  New  Bruns- 
wick.    i2mo,  $1.50. 

a  Critical  Development  from  the  Historic  Theories,  together  with  an  examin- 
ation of  Certain  Wages  Factors:  the  Mobility  of  Labor,  Trades  Unionism,  and 
the  Methods  of  Industrial  Remuneration. 

Sociology. 

A  Treatise.  By  John  Bascom,  author  of  "Esthetics," 
"Comparative  Psychology,"  etc.     12°,  $1.50. 

"  Gives  a  wholesome  and  inspiring  word  on  all  the  living  social  questions  of 
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and  truer  are  rich  with  the  finer  wisdom  of  the  time.  The  author  is  always 
liberal  in  spirit,  generous  in  his  sympathies,  and  wise  in  his  knowledge." — Critic. 

A  General  Freight  and  Passenger  Post. 

A  Practical  Solution  of  the  Railroad  Problem.  By 
James  L,  Cowles.  Third  revised  edition,  with  ad- 
ditional material.     12°,  cloth,  $1.25  ;  paper,  5octs. 

"  The  book  gives  the  best  account  which  has  thus  f.irbecn  given  in  English  of 
the  movement  for  a  reform  in  our  freight  and  passenger-tariff  policy,  and  the 
best  arguments  in  favor  of  such  reform.  ' — Edmund  J.  James,  in  the  Annals  of 
Political  and  Social  Science. 

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tremely difficult  subject  and  is  well  worth  careful  reading  by  all  students  of 
the  transportation  question."  —  From  letter  of  Edw.  A.  Moselev,  Secretary  of 
the  Interstate  Commerce  Commission,  Washington,  D.C. 


Q.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS.  New  York  &  London. 


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